How You Play the Game
by forbidden-fruit-vendor
Summary: Ron's been feeling out of place since splitting with Hermione. Harry seems to be in a similar situation since Ginny left him. Ron decides to spend Christmas alone with his best friend and enjoy the finer things in life. Instead, they both receive rather unexpected gifts. Brief mention Romione, HarryxGinny, Dead Fred.
**AN: So this is something I never posted for Christmas because I thought nobody would like it and I would get flamed. I actually just wrote it for myself. Something just told me to post this today. So, Christmas in March everybody. Please don't kill me.**

Not a year had gone by where Ronald Weasley hadn't spent Christmas at the Burrow. He was always surrounded by family, the heat of the warm fire permeating his skin, the smell of roasting ham and baking sweet breads, the constant talk and occasional laughter, and the decorations of holly and mistletoe…

Ron was sick of it. He was tired of the maroon sweaters, of Bill plying him with eggnog and chess (still trying for a win). He no longer felt comfort in the jumble of family members, and if he had a sickle for every time his mother had tried to get him and Hermione under the mistletoe he would have his own Quidditch team by now.

Bless Hermione, she was still trying to reason with the woman. He had tried telling his best friend it was no use explaining they weren't getting back together, because she wouldn't accept it. Hermione did however do a great job of heading him off at the mistletoe, sometimes at her own expense. So far over the past three years she had kissed George, Ginny (THAT had been interesting), and Bill. Fleur had not been pleased. It was worth it, even if he had to go through her annual lecture that he should come out to his family.

About four years ago he had split with Hermione. It was mutual and she wasn't at all upset when he had told her he was gay. In fact, she was the most supportive she'd ever been. Ron had been relieved beyond measure. After their final year at Hogwarts he was conscious of a lack of physical desire for her. He had written it off to the stress of N.E.W.T.s and their own hectic lives- they barely had time to sleep that year after all. Their final year really put things in perspective and by the time exams had rolled around Hermione was going through two calming draughts per day and Harry and Ron were wistfully reminiscing about O.W.L year. When school ended and real life began however, he quickly realized the truth. He just wasn't attracted to Hermione. He loved her deeply, but not in a romantic fashion. He remembered how unpleasant it was to kiss Lavender Brown in sixth year, but at the time had attributed it to her personality.

He realized he had never thought of Hermione in a sexual way. He had, on occasion, wanked on his own but never to thoughts of her. The times when he had masturbated were few and far between. He always told himself he shouldn't wank in the dorms (even though the other boys had) or he didn't have time between school work, annoying family members, and destroying You-Know-Who. He had known even then he was lying to himself. When he did try to wank, he couldn't get thoughts of Hermione to come. Even after he had seen her nude for the first time, it was as though he couldn't really recall what she looked like. He couldn't get images in his mind, at least not images of Hermione…

At the time, they both sort of knew they wouldn't last long. Ron knew he owed her the truth, even though he had tried to deny it from himself he knew it wasn't fair to her. She was trying so hard to make them work. Hermione was busy (as always), but always seemed to find the time and energy to put into romance and trying to take their relationship to 'the next level'. He kept saying he wasn't ready. Altogether, their relationship outside of school lasted only months. Fighting was wearing away at their friendship, and they conceded rather than watch it die.

He remembered the night it had happened. His heart was pounding when he walked through the door that night and saw her. She had been naked except for a soft pink apron covering a swelled bosom down to the cleft of her sex, the ribbons clutching her thin waist and accentuating her exposed and ample bottom. He almost looked incredulously down to his own crotch in amazement to it's lack of response. Instead, he just dropped his travel bag down on the floor.

She was making breakfast for dinner. Ron loved breakfast food at any time of day, and of course, she had known that. It would have been any straight man's dream come true. At the moment though, Ron was worried that she might spill bacon grease down herself, and wondering if she was cold wearing nothing but that apron. No matter how hard she or he tried, he just couldn't think of her sexually. He knew then he had to tell her he was gay, not even then liking the concept himself. She had turned and smiled as he closed the door and moved to embrace him, ignoring his abashed stammers. As he felt her thinly covered breasts push against his chest he had known it was no good. She must have seen something in his face because she pulled away and her smile faltered.

"What is it?" It sounded as though she knew without asking.

"We need to talk. Maybe you should sit down…" She nodded once in understanding, but instead of sitting down she continued bustling around the kitchen removing sizzling pans of bacon and eggs, a massive platter of roast sausage, and even a large porcelain container of fried and baked hash browns covered with onions and cheese out of the oven. She was solemn in her movements, as though disappointed. He couldn't speak, couldn't even think of what to say. Hermione's eyes were blank; her expression an emotionless mask. He wished she would give some outward sign of what she was thinking. At long last she sat beside him at the table, still in nothing but that apron seemingly oblivious to her own nudity. Ron wished she were fully clothed in one of her delicate blouses like always, reading to him by the fire. Why couldn't this be as easy? She turned to him and tried to smile, but he could tell her heart wasn't in it.

"It's not working, is it?" Her voice was soft and low. Ron couldn't help but feel guilty, but forced himself to look her in the eyes.

"No, it's not." He watched as she pursed her lips, looking down at the table. He saw her eyes mist and felt an awful wrenching in his chest for the pain he was causing her.

"What am I doing wrong?" Her voice broke as her tears started to fall on the clean glass table, water pooling in little puddles and distorting the image of her pale legs visible beneath the surface. This was so out of character for her, but then he knew how frustrated Hermione got when she still failed a spell when she'd been performing perfectly. He moved to put his arm around her and hold her close, her head dropped to his shoulder.

"Hermione, you haven't done anything wrong. I… I think it's me." He was surprised at how level his voice sounded. She looked up, brows furrowed and lips pouted in confusion.

"What's going on Ron? Really. I need to know. You're keeping something from me and I know we've talked about this before and I keep harping about it, but we can't keep going around like this." Ron nodded. He could feel his heart practically hammering on his rib cage in protest and his mouth was dried out, but he forced the words out anyway.

"I think I'm gay." Hermione looked up at him with her mouth open and eyes wide, tears still drying on her cheeks.

"What do you mean 'you think'? You don't have to give me some cop out if you aren't attracted to me Ron, I can take it." Hermione covered herself, crossing her arms across her chest as though suddenly aware of how naked she was. Ron drew his arm back, and turned to face her fully.

"I don't think. I know I'm gay. I misspoke. Seriously." Hermione rolled her eyes, still sniffing.

"Okay," She said sarcastically, "If you aren't going to tell me what's really going on-" Ron shook his head grabbing her by the shoulders. Startled at his sudden movement she looked up into his eyes.

"I…can prove it." Hermione narrowed her eyes, her upper lip drawn back at the side in a show of disbelief. Without waiting for her response he moved away from the table, the chair skidding back a few inches. He darted into the next room, rifling under the cushions of the couch where he had been sleeping the past few nights. Finding what he wanted he pulled out a rumpled magazine. Rushing back to the table, he slowed slightly as he saw his old friend looking up at him expectantly. This didn't seem like the best way to go about things, and it wasn't how he had pictured this going at all. With minor hesitation he laid the magazine in front of her on the table. Looking up at him in dawning understanding she opened the October Issue of Quidditch Unrobed. As she flipped through silently, she landed on the article Ron knew she would find.

"Why does the paper feel so stiff and-" Hermione's eyes widened in recognition as her eyes flashed back up to meet his, her hand jerked hurriedly away.

"Oh…" Ron clenched his eyes shut and quietly waited for the hammer to fall, but it never did. Opening one eye slightly in suspicion he found Hermione looking tenderly at him.

"You were really afraid of telling me, weren't you?" Ron opened his mouth, but couldn't find the words to say. He had never really been good at talking about his feelings, but when they weren't bickering Hermione always seemed to really get him.

"You didn't want to hurt me." It was a statement, and Ron still didn't respond. Tears welled up in her eyes again as she pushed her chair back and rose flinging herself into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, palms pressing into the cool flesh of her back.

"You really are gay." She didn't sound angry, and Ron found himself wondering why she wasn't beating him half to death.

"You aren't mad?" She let out a soft laugh and looked up from his chest, shaking her head with tears still flowing.

"Ron, you can't help something like this. How long have you known?" Ron shrugged. He didn't know precisely how to explain the years of possible repression he'd experienced from the sole assumption that he should end up like his parents: married with children. In a way, it still felt like it should end up that way. Part of him still expected his physical issues with women to resolve themselves and soon they'd have a family with kids of their own…

"I don't really know how long. It wasn't some sort of 'oh, I'm definitely gay' moment. I sort of always assumed I'd end up with you. I still love you, you know." She nodded, satisfied, and gently pulled away. He let her go.

"I know it can't be the way I pictured it, or maybe the way you pictured it, but I'll always be your friend." She was wiping her tears away with her right hand, but when she looked up again he saw that she was smiling.

"C'mon let's go get you dressed." He threw an arm around her, as she erupted into a fit of giggles. Ron had to admit, that Hermione was by far the one of the best friends he'd ever had. Although, he definitely preferred her dressed. They spend the rest of the night at the table devouring the delicious food she had prepared, though that night they ate more comfortably in each other's presence than the previous several months. Ron felt as though a great weight had been lifted from them both, leaving behind the solid friendship they had always retained. Even Hermione had admitted that she felt more at ease around him from that moment.

"You will definitely have to move out though." Hermione stated in her matter of fact tone eyeballing him over her plate of eggs and hash browns. Ron clutched his chest in mock pain.

"You mean you don't want your gay best friend to live with you?!" Hermione smirked, chewing thoughtfully then swallowing.

"What if I end up bringing a guy home? Something tells me that wouldn't work out too well." Ron nibbled at one of the sausages before replying.

"Well, what if I bring a guy home? We could just share." He couldn't help but feel satisfied when she snorted into her juice.

"Not on your life, Ronald!" In the end, he had decided to move out if nothing else than to give Hermione her personal space. Although, he frequently stopped by on weekends for tea. Their friendship, he felt, had never been better.

It had been Harry who had suggested he move in with him at Grimmauld Place and live in one of the spare rooms. He had been crowding Hermione's apartment, even though she insisted she hadn't minded, Ron still felt like a burden. He was trying to find a decent place from what he had saved from his editing job at The Published Portkey (a travel magazine) to get a good apartment on his own when Harry told him in no uncertain terms he was 'being stupid again'. Ron knew he had a bit of a hang up where money was concerned, and supposed he always would after being poor for so long as a child. Harry had offered for him to live with him several times and he always declined, not wanting to take advantage of his friend's generosity. Harry finally laid it all on the table

"Look mate, you wouldn't be inconveniencing me at all. I inherited the house, and I don't pay rent. It costs me literally nothing to stay there. It has way too much room for me and to be honest- I'm lonely. I remodeled the place so it's less gloomy, but I'm still there all by myself with nobody for company except Kreacher. Regardless of the fact that he seems to like me now, he's not precisely what I'd call 'great company'. I'm literally begging here. You'd be doing me a favor!" So he'd moved in. He had to admit, living with Harry was the best. Just like old times, only now they had no enemies and few responsibilities. Though he'd made sure Harry knew from the off why he'd broken up with Hermione.

Surprisingly, he wasn't too worried about telling Harry. After everything they had been through he knew the other boy wouldn't push him away, even if the thought of his best friend being gay was uncomfortable. He thought, at the most, Harry might change his mind about living together.

"Why would I not want to live with you because you're gay? You're still the best mate I've ever had. It's not that big a deal." He had given Ron that shining smile he always had reserved just for him, and Ron did his best to not read to deeply into it.

The only thing he had neglected to mention really, was that he was attracted to his raven-haired friend. He knew the right thing to do would be to tell him, but that wouldn't necessarily be the kind thing to do. Would it? All it would do is make things awkward. It would be more logical for him to keep something like this to himself until his…infatuation, if it could so be called, passed. Or was he just kidding himself again by pretending it was only physical attraction? He was determined to ignore the tightening in his chest every time Harry smiled at him, or grinning like an idiot every time Harry's skin brushed his. Determined as he was, he couldn't help but be thrilled with Harry's company.

That was one reason he was so excited about Yule this year. For the first time since he'd been at Hogwarts he wouldn't be spending the holiday with his overbearing family. It was just going to be him and Harry. Hermione was abroad representing her own Inter-Species Integration Coalition (I.S.I.C. which they pronounced like the goddess Isis) and garnering support among other countries. So this year they had decided to do something for themselves that they had never dared to do when Hermione was home.

They had managed to get their hands on some marijuana laced with dragon claw. Hermione had always imposed a very strict drug embargo. Back in fifth year he had researched dragon claw extensively with the intent to buy it before she had confiscated it. Harry had also mentioned a similar muggle drug called Adderall with comparable effects. It wouldn't have been the first time they had tried pot, but it would be the first time they had combined it with another substance. They had, of course, researched what the results might be and the possible experience they might have. Hermione had taught them caution at the very least. They were also getting it from George, whom they trusted. After all, he had scored them almost all of their reefer. And if there was anyone who could be trusted with elicit mixtures, it would be his brother. They were both pretty excited.

"Honey, I'm home!" Ron always got an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach whenever Harry did this. Immediately jumping off the sofa he rushed into the foyer hallway. Harry stood on the doormat the chill emanating from him as he shook stray snow from his boots.

"Did you get it?" Harry shirked his boots by the door and led the way to the adjacent dining room, setting his bags down on the polished tabletop. Ron following helpfully behind preparing to grab anything if his friend needed him to. Not turning from the table Harry shook his head.

"What?! I thought you were going to George's to get… URGH!" Harry turned around, eyes wide and apologetic, his arms out to brace Ron's shoulders.

"Hey, hold up! George was out on lunch, and-"

"It's Christmas Eve, dammit!" He brushed his friend's arms aside, noticing the other boy was wearing a broad smile.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" But the words held no menace. Try as he might, when Harry was smiling he couldn't help but smile too. Harry collapsed, leaning down on his knees for support and laughing deliriously. Ron found himself laughing too, and couldn't help but wonder why they were in the dining room laughing unless…

"You're having me on, aren't you?" Harry nodded at his knees, still laughing. Ron waited until he recovered with his arms crossed trying to keep his face blank, and failing.

"Wanker. Where is it?" Harry reached into his coat pocket, fishing thoughtfully for a moment with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Blue Cheese." He stated, finally emerging with a rather large bag of pot, and chucked it to Ron who promptly caught it. Raising his eyes questioningly, Harry removed his coat and looked at him blankly.

"What?"

"A quarter ounce? Really?" Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Hermione doesn't come back until late January, so…" Ron felt his grin grow wider.

"This is going to be the best holiday ever." Harry looked hurriedly back to the bags on the table, unloading groceries, and their Christmas dinner that he had procured on his trip outside.

"You don't want to see your family at all?" Ron fingered the small bag thinking of how to respond. His family had been a sensitive topic for Harry since he had broke it off with Ginny about a year and a half ago.

Not that there had been any love lost between any of them. Ginny had seemed perfectly fine after their split. Surprisingly well. He had always assumed it would have been Harry who would break it off, but Ginny had insisted it was her, and Harry had agreed. The circumstances were suspicious, and neither wanted to talk about it. When they found themselves in each other's presence they were very polite and friendly. Almost to the same level he and Hermione were friendly. The only difference was that mum was absolutely determined to figure out what had happened. She seemed satisfied with his and Hermione's reasons of constant bickering- because they had always been like that. Harry and Ginny's 'it just wasn't working' excuse did not cut it. Ever since then, they traded holidays so as not to be forced into awkward conversations with Molly breathing down their necks every time. Ginny pulled Christmas this year. So, he had agreed to stay home with Harry since Hermione wasn't there to keep him company. Like hell would he ever go to the Dursley's for winter holidays.

"Nah, I'm really excited about this year to be honest. Nobody is in everyone else's business, nice and quiet. And I get to spend it with my favorite person in the world." Harry finished emptying the bags and strode to the kitchen arms laden with almost all the groceries. He saw some milk and condensed chocolate about to fall, and grabbed it settling it back on the table. Ron saw the look of satisfaction on the other boy's face and felt his ears heat up.

"Aw, I'm touched you would forgo your family time for me. Nice to know where I stand." Ron set the drugs down on the table, grabbed the take out curry instead, and went to the kitchen to forage for a fork. He met Harry coming through the door and stopped at the look he was receiving.

"What?"

"You're going to eat now?" He looked doubtfully down at the container in his hands, biting his lip, and then back up to face his friend.

"Uh… Yeah." Harry furrowed his brows in a way that made Ron feel as though he had said something incredibly stupid.

"Why don't we smoke some, and then eat. We're going to be famished anyway." Harry spoke, posting either arm on the side of the doorway effectively blocking his entrance.

"I don't want to eat the high. It wears off quicker." He went to shoulder past Harry, but his friend moved his weight in front of him, not pushing but not letting him pass either.

"Ron. We have. A quarter ounce. Of weed. We can afford to eat the high off! Besides, everything tastes so much more amazing than normal." Ron felt his ears turning red again.

"Well, I only paid for-" Harry's exasperated sigh cut him off.

"Look mate. I bought the stuff to have a good time. With you. I don't want all of that on my own. I spent more on it because I want us to have a good time together."

"But-"

"Think of it this way. It's as much for me as it is for you. Now, no arguments. I'm going to load up, and we're going to split it. All of it." Harry's eyes gleamed with promise. There was no getting out of this. Harry always knew exactly what to say to get him to agree to shit.

"Yes, Master." Did Harry's eyes suddenly get darker? No. He had to be imagining that. He did however let his arms down from the doorframe, grinning like a mad man.

"Good. I'm going to be right back!" With that Harry took off through the dining room and through the hallway and up the stairs. Ron could hear his footsteps thundering down the halls as he journeyed to retrieve his pipe from the bedroom. Ron decided to go ahead and get utensils for him and Harry. He retrieved some of the Black family silver and a couple glasses out of the cupboard for good measure. He was assuming they would have either water or some leftover pumpkin juice in the ice box. He didn't feel much like water so he waved his wand to the levitate the pitcher full of juice to the table with his other hand. He had just settled himself into one of the kitchen chairs when Harry was back, pipe in hand along with a grinder.

"Nope. No juice today mate. We're drinking." Ron looked up from the tilted pitcher he was preparing to pour.

"Uh, drinking what?" Harry rolled his eyes. Laying the pipe and grinder down next to the bag of drugs he raced back into the kitchen. Ron set the pitcher back on the table.

"Did you not see what all I brought home?" He called back.

"No, I didn't get the chance to. You were too busy trying to stop me eating and lying to me about drugs." He got a generous full throated laugh from the other boy in turn before he was back with a large long neck bottle in hand. Ron stretched to grab it from him, gazing open mouthed at the label.

"Oh gods! I can't drink this! This whiskey is old enough to order it's own whiskey…" Harry snorted, sinking into the chair next to Ron.

"Ron, shut up and drink. It's Christmas you sod."

"The logic of your argument gives me no choice, does it?" Harry elbowed him in the ribs, snatching the bottle back and unscrewing the bottle.

"Hell no. And don't say shit like that. It makes me miss Hermione." Ron nodded his agreement. As much as he was looking forward to his holiday alone with his best friend, he couldn't help but miss his straight laced, bushy haired ex-girlfriend. He let Harry pour his glass and took it, looking hard at the liquid as though expecting it to reach out and bite him if he tried to drink. Harry was staring him down.

"Ron, if you don't take a drink I will force it down your throat." Ron let his gaze shift from the glass to Harry's hardened expression.

"And how would you do that?" Harry gestured vaguely towards the kitchen with his free hand as he poured a glass for himself.

"I have a funnel in there somewhere. I'll put a temporary sticking charm on you and the table, then just pop the funnel in and…" He trailed off, putting the cap back on the bottle and setting it on the table. Ron tried hard not to imagine Harry above him on the kitchen table long enough to charm him. Taking his mind off it for now, he chose the lesser of two evils. Harry gave a triumphant cheer as he took a good swallow, and Ron felt the heat in more than just his throat as his friend clapped him on the shoulder.

"You are a bad influence on me mate." Harry took his own drink, and reached past him for the pipe, grinder, and the bag full of pot.

"That's me. Drink this liquor, do these drugs. Debauchery and sin all around! I'm just the worst." Harry's voice was dipped low in mock shame. Ron pushed against his shoulder.

"Hey, I don't want to hear that negative attitude." Harry looked up with a bolstered grin on his face.

"I'm the worst!" Ron dissolved into laughter at his jaunty winning tone. Harry pulled some small pieces of the plant from the bag. The normally green plant with slight discoloration because of the strain, was showing prevalent spots of gold through the buds. Ron supposed this was the dragon claw in evidence. It must have reacted oddly, because dragon claw was almost black in color on it's own. He mentioned it to Harry, who furrowed his brows in suspicion as he ground them up.

"Yeah, I suppose it must be discoloration. Fred said he combined it himself, and even if he thought to fuck with us he wouldn't do it with illicit drugs." Ron nodded in agreement. George hadn't quite recovered from Fred's death, and had been more subdued with pulling stunts on people. He occasionally messed with mum, but at this point it was less of an aggravation to everyone and mostly just a reassurance that George was still George.

Harry packed the ground up plant into the bowl of the long stemmed pipe and handed it to Ron, who took it.

"You know, if you paid this much for it you should hit it first." Harry shook his head.

"But I don't want to hit it first, I want you to hit it first. Since I paid for it, I get what I want." Ron shook his head, but raised his wand anyway. Effectively lighting the pipe he drew in heavily a couple times before letting his wand drop back to the table. He'd been careful to angle the flame so Harry got a good green hit on his first go as well. Just because he was told to go first, didn't mean he was going to be inconsiderate. After feeling the heavy weight settle into his lungs after a good inhale, he could feel the tickle in his throat and knew he couldn't breathe in any more. Coughing and sputtering he passed the pipe off to Harry.

He could already feel the clouds disappear in his mind, and his body relax. The stress in his muscles he didn't even know he had were disappearing and he took a swig of the whiskey, now free from the restraint he had shown earlier.

Before he knew it the pipe was back, and Harry was spewing large clouds of smoke beside him. His friend's hands were shaking as he too hacked through his first taste of the pipe. Together they worked through the first bowl, speaking occasionally through the silence but mostly flooding the room with a dull haze of smoke as they coughed profusely. After about a quarter of an hour, or had it been that long? How long had they been sitting there together? It felt like a real long time. Ages in fact. Ron was dimly aware that the pipe was tapped out, and didn't it take…like…fifteen minutes or so to accomplish that? It couldn't have been as long as it felt.

"Oh my gods, Ron." His ears perked up at the unnatural volume of his friend's voice.

"Wha-?" He grabbed Ron's shoulder and Ron turned to look at him, alarmed at his grip.

"Curry sounds bloody amazing right now." Ron could feel the laughter bubbling from his chest and run out of his mouth like water. He could see his friend laughing good naturedly beside him, his pupils were dilated and what little was left of his irises were so dark they were almost black. Ron's throat felt really dry, and he swallowed in vain trying to push away the sensation that his throat was closing up. He felt the most insane urge to kiss the other boy, almost with the same level of urgency as he was now breathing, trying to get more oxygen into his lungs. Somehow he restrained himself. Harry suddenly stopped laughing.

"Ron…" That voice. That couldn't be his friend's voice. It was so low, and husky, and…sexy. He made a mental note to abandon the thought, just as Harry spoke again with the same arousing tone. "Your eyes… they're so… so…" Ron couldn't bring himself to speak, his heart was beating rapidly and he couldn't help but wonder if it was a medical problem from the result of the drugs.

"Blue. Your eyes are soooo blue. They're the most beautiful shade of blue I've ever seen." Ron burst out laughing before he could stop himself.

"You are so high right now." Harry's spell broke as he looked away, his voice returning to normal tone.

"I must be. I'm also starving." Ron realized immediately that he was insanely hungry. Reaching for the take out he passed a container and a fork to Harry. They're fingertips brushed in contact and Ron chose not to acknowledge the tingle that went down his spine.

Opening his box he dug in graciously to the still sizzling chicken tikka marsala and rice. Harry had been right, and he couldn't suppress the long groan of pleasure he made at the explosion of spices on his tongue. Harry murmured his agreement, his head bent over his container and practically shoveling food in his mouth.

"Slow down, mate. You're going to choke." Harry looked up, his mouth full to bursting. Ron didn't know how he managed to talk with his mouth that full, but he accomplished it.

"Nuh uh, can't choke this high." Ron smirked to prevent further outbursts.

"Are you sure about that, mate?" Harry slowed, thinking with his brows furrowed.

"Yeah, isn't that like…medically accurate?" Ron shook his head, finally letting his snickers through.

"You are thrashed right now." Harry nodded, not disputing the fact as he attacked his food. They made short work of the curry, and drank down more whiskey than probably what was necessary. Ron didn't even try to justify it because of his remaining high. If he had he probably would have written it off to their thirst from the smoke session, and the spice of the meat.

The high of the drugs was wearing off steadily, but the fog of the alcohol was settling in. They hadn't drank enough to be drunk, but Ron was definitely tipsy. He felt warmer than usual, but extremely relaxed. He was still in control of all his motor functions and that was what he cared about most. Even so…

"We might want to slow down a bit on the booze though." Harry shrugged, rising from his chair at the table and grabbing the empty take out containers. Ron was thoroughly full, and mentally praised Harry on his choice of cuisine for the night. It wasn't necessarily his mum's full course Christmas dinner, but he found Harry and his take out to be significant although he couldn't quite pinpoint why.

"The food will soak up the alcohol once it settles. You want to get high again? I don't think we got full effect of the dragon claw, seeing as we ate immediately." Ron nodded, getting up from the table and grabbing the bag, grinder, and pipe in one hand and his second glass of whiskey in the other.

"I'm going to move to the living room, it's more comfortable there."

"Good idea, I'll meet you in there. Start a fire, would you?" Ron grunted his agreement behind the rim of his glass and made his way to the infinitely more comfortable living room.

Harry had remodeled shortly after moving in after Hogwarts. He had quickly gotten tired of the depressing black and gray, which they all had during their stay at some point. Now that they had Kreacher's support however, remodeling hadn't proved quite as difficult as it had in the holiday before fifth year. Most of the demented artifacts had been disposed of, except for the knick knacks the elf had wanted to keep. At any rate, the dangerous ones had been trashed during that time. Harry had even managed to get rid of Mrs. Black's screaming portrait, thanks to Kreacher, who was able to somehow remove the permanent sticking charm with his elven magick.

They had gotten rid of the stiff black leather couch that had once been in here, and now had a large crimson sofa that was more the size of a twin bed with a back. You could quickly sink right into it, and if your weren't careful, fall asleep for several hours. Most of the more unruly portraits had been replaced or disposed of. Harry had found a cache of old pictures of his godfather in the attic. And they now adorned the walls. Harry had done right by his parents, removing the photos from the album Hagrid had given him and placing them around the house. There were also frames depicting the three of them; Harry, himself, and Hermione.

And the walls were now crimson and gold. Although, some of the rooms had remained their original green. In fact, the only rooms that had remained untouched were Sirius' and Regulus' rooms. Harry had moved most of the black heirlooms retained into one of the spare bedrooms, which he had given to Kreacher instead of that knotty little cabinet he had once had.

Ron set his items down on the end table, taking another swig of alcohol for good measure. He wasn't heeding his own advice, but it was Christmas Eve and he had nothing planned for tomorrow. A minor hangover could be quickly dealt with, with some Hargrave's Hangover Solution. They always kept a healthy stock on hand, because Seamus and Dean were frequent house guests.

Ron straightened up again, realizing he didn't have his wand made his way back to the table. The milk and chocolate that had been there when they'd had dinner were gone along with the bottle of whiskey and Harry's glass. Ron assumed Harry was putting them away since he could hear the other boy clambering around the kitchen. Grabbing his wand he made his way back to the other room to start a fire.

He had just gotten the fire going and planted himself on his favorite part of the sofa when Harry appeared in the doorway, leaning heavily on the frame. He noticed his friend's heavy eyes blinking slowly at him. He was holding the whiskey bottle in one hand by the neck, and his glass in the other. He was very clearly more along than Ron. Figures, he was smaller and lightweight. It didn't take too much to get Harry drunk.

"You know what I think you want to do?" Harry asked blearily, his words slightly slurred. Ron smiled in spite of himself. Harry, when drunk, frequently suggested things he thought Ron would want to do. They more often were things Harry wanted to do, but he usually played along. His friend was entertaining while hammered. He normally only drew the line when they were completely outrageous.

"What do I want to do, mate?" He asked, a smirk spreading on his face.

"Don't give me that look! I know what you're thinking, and you stop it right now!" Ron laughed in response, he couldn't help it with Harry gesturing the bottle wildly at him.

"Stop laughing you git. Seriously."

"Okay, okay." He stopped laughing with some difficulty. "What do I want to do, Harry?"

"I think," Harry stated stepping into the room, and sitting a few feet from the fire, "you want to get high again, and play me in Chess." It took all Ron had not to laugh.

"You, my friend, are smashed. How do you suppose you're going to being solid competition for someone as accomplished as myself?" Harry blinked his eyes wide in astonishment, shaking his head slightly.

"Whoa, Ron, you're ego is showing." Alright, maybe he wasn't quite as drunk as Ron thought. He had also never played chess on dragon claw before…

"Alright, I'm in." Harry cheered and pumped the air as Ron rose from his seat to retrieve the chess set from it's place on the mantle. Waving his wand he levitated his whiskey glass, and drug paraphernalia on the floor next to them. Harry promptly opened the whiskey bottle again and topped off his glass.

"Drink up, Ronnie! You have to give me an edge." Ron was moving to sit down and accidentally let the set drop from about a foot off the floor, it didn't damage anything. But you could hear the pieces rattling around inside the hinged board and protesting loudly.

"How much have you had to drink already?" Ron asked, noticing the dwindling amount in the bottle. Harry looked thoughtful as he took another drink from his own glass.

"Maybe… I think this is my fourth glass." Ron laughed as he retrieved the pieces and began setting up the board.

"You really think you're up for this?"

"Can it Weasley." Harry was loading up the pipe again, as Ron finished setting the board. His grin felt like it had a permanent sticking charm on it. Harry hit the pipe long and deep, and when he coughed it was hollow. Ron was confident about his ability to win under normal circumstances, but this game would certainly be amusing. Harry passed him the pipe and he hit it as his friend made his first move. As a show of good faith, Ron always let Harry play white.

Even though he always won, Ron never tired of playing chess. Especially with Harry. He always liked things requiring strategy, structure, challenge. Nobody proved much of a challenge anymore, not even his father whom he'd learned the game from initially. What he really enjoyed was how people played the game. It was all in the journey, the process, and not necessarily the end result. He got a thrill from learning about people, dissecting them, and defeating them. It was a chase and he derived a strange sort of savage pleasure from it. Occasionally, when Harry was away during the Quidditch season, he brought a male companion home and played with him. If the opponent was challenging enough, often they would stay the night. It was strangely intimate to him, and often it was a good source of foreplay. Of course with his family members it was just a game. With Harry, and other lucky gentleman however it sometimes got him hard.

He couldn't recall how many times he had wanked after playing the game with his friend. The first few times he had felt horribly guilty, and had done so only because if he hadn't he would have had physical repercussions. After a while though, as with everything eventually, the guilt had faded.

Ron wasn't sure what it was about playing with Harry that was so damn appealing. The boy had always been pants at the game. He assumed it was because the raven-haired boy never tried the same strategy twice. He was always surprised, always on his toes. Even though Ron always recognized easily what Harry attempted and thwarted him, he always had fun anticipating what he would do next.

This game was proving just as futile and entertaining after twenty minutes. Talk had dwindled, and concentration was evident. The pipe was once again cashed as of a few minutes prior and Ron was appreciating the pleasant high and the intense look on his friend's face.

"You going to move or sit there all night making faces?" Harry scowled as he straightened his back.

"Face it, I have you up against the wall Harry." His friend looked behind him hurriedly, and then back at Ron, pointing behind him.

"Wall's back there, mate." Ron shook his head.

"You want to just call it off?" Ron was hard. He had not counted on this happening, and was desperate for his evening wank.

"And forfeit? No way. I have to take you down a peg. You are getting way too uppity."

"Uppity?"

"Yes! Distraction tactics! Do you feel kind of weird, right now? Like…butterflies or something? Because I totally do. Am I just super high?" Ron often felt butterflies around Harry, but he was feeling a bit flushed. He didn't think it was the fire either. There was a sort of nervous jitter under his skin he couldn't shake.

"It must be the dragon claw. Also, you can't just say 'distraction tactic' it defeats the purpose." Harry smiled, switching positions. He swung his legs out and laid down on his side, using his elbow to prop his head up. Ron felt his breath catch in his throat. That definitely didn't help his erection. He looked hot. Normally he didn't allow himself to appreciate Harry's appearance, convinced it would just lead to awkward situations. He found he couldn't help it at the moment. Harry was wearing an old sweater his mother had made him, which was a wonderful shade of green and too small. It clung to his forearms, stark dark hairs standing up on his arms. The sweater rode up his stomach, exposing a generous expanse of hip. The skin glowed in the firelight, and Ron felt the absurd desire to lick it. His jeans rode low, and were slightly too tight. It stretched over his powerful thighs and Ron was left wondering how much pressure it would take around his hips for him to come. How on Earth had Ginny ever let this adonis go? That girl was definitely mad.

"Why did you and Ginny split up?" The words were out of his mouth before he could catch them, and for a second Harry looked shocked. They hadn't really talked about it before. Ron had told him he was there for him if he ever wanted to open up but hadn't pressed the issue. Harry hadn't ever said anything about it after that.

"We weren't very compatible…sexually." Ron stared. What the hell did that mean?

"Can you elaborate on that a bit?" Ron didn't want to pressure his friend, but Harry had never opened up about his past relationships before. He was insanely curious, and his heart was pounding in his chest.

"We just wanted different things." Harry was looking incredibly uncomfortable now, the chess game looming between them. Ron could direct attention back to his move and forget the whole thing or he could play a different game entirely. He decided to press on.

"Things such as?" Harry sighed and rolled to his back, laying his arm over his eyes. His lips drew back in an uncomfortable grimace.

"Ginny…Gods, this is awkward. Promise not to jinx me?" Ron had always been as understanding as possible when it came to his best friend and little sister. He had certainly never threatened to harm him in any way, and he didn't intend to start. No matter what the circumstances, he'd always trust Harry.

"Mate, I'm not going to start beating you on Christmas Eve over shit that's already been over and done with for a year now." Harry nodded, seemingly gearing himself up for something. He was licking his lips nervously, and spoke with his arm still covering half his face.

"Ginny just doesn't get me excited. I like…power. Force. I guess." Ron felt as though he couldn't remember how to breath, air just caught in his lungs. When he didn't respond, Harry must have thought he hadn't understood because he continued to speak.

"I like things rough. I like to be held down, maybe a choking hazard occasionally. I want someone big and strong to just dominate me." Ron knew his sister was anything but big and strong. Granted, she was stronger than a lot of people, but compare to the rest of his family she was lithe and sinewy. But the thought of Harry tied down and begging for him was now something that he couldn't clear out of his mind.

"That's fucking hot." He hadn't meant to say that! Where had that come from? Though, if the comment had been weird Harry didn't acknowledge it. He finally removed his arm from his face though, and Ron definitely considered that an improvement.

"Yeah? Well, not to Ginny. She wanted an emotional connection she said we lacked. She wanted me to hold her, stoke her hair… And all those things are fine. It's just… if I'm going to have sex it's got to hurt a bit. She didn't really understand that, for me, it did offer an emotional connection to have someone else in control. She didn't like to do any of it. She drew the line when I… asked her to take a strengthening solution." Ron was confident his eyebrows had receded into his hairline At the look on his face Harry raised himself from the floor with eyes wide determined to defend himself.

"It's not like that! I didn't want to change her permanently or anything, just a temporary dose. See, she was complaining that I couldn't come-"

"You couldn't come?" Disregarding the fact that they were talking about his sister and he should feel uncomfortable, Ron was interested. For so long he had shoved any potential feeling for the raven-haired boy below the surface, afraid of damaging their friendship. Yet, given the way the conversation was going, Harry didn't seem quite so straight as he did an hour or so ago.

"Well, I couldn't come with her for some reason so-"

"You didn't ever cheat-"

"No! I would just get off in the bathroom!" Ron couldn't help but sigh in relief. They settled into a comfortable silence, despite the awkwardness of the conversation.

"You think it's weird?" Ron shook his head, thinking of some of the things he'd done. He had no right to call Harry weird. Besides, who could help something like that? Ron could feel a tingling sensation in his skin. His erection had waned a bit since the conversation about his sister though. He was just starting to breathe normally again when Harry spoke.

"So, how is gay sex?" If the question weren't so unexpected, he would have found it funny. Given the tone, you would have thought they'd been talking about the weather. It was the knottiest question all night. Of course, a knotty question deserved a knotty answer.

"It's amazing. Thanks for asking." Harry snorted, swinging back on his side again and propping up his chin.

"Okay, stupid question. I just never see any guys over here or anything. I thought I'd ask." They had never talked about his love life before either. Most of the time he'd gone home with the guys he'd met. He'd only ever brought guys home when there wasn't another option, and even then only when Harry was away for matches.

"I didn't really want to bring blokes into your house. I thought it might make you uncomfortable." Harry was downing the last of another glass of whiskey, and Ron could see his head shaking behind the distorted glass.

"No! Bring home guys. I'd love to meet a boyfriend sometime." Ron could feel his shoulders tense up again, regardless of the high he was still under.

"'Boyfriend' is a bit generous. I don't see guys that long. Mostly only once or twice." Ron didn't like the look on Harry's face at all. He wasn't sure what the other boy was thinking, but Harry was staring almost hungrily up at him.

"I suppose you just haven't found the right guy?" Harry's voice came out light, but Ron couldn't help but feel weight behind those words. What was happening? He suddenly felt like the conversation had been leading somewhere and he had gotten lost a few turns back. He was really warm. Too warm. The tingling in his skin rose to a throb, and his thought process was murky. Surely, this was unusual for dragon claw which was meant to heighten mental processes?

"I suppose not. How about we hit that pipe again?" He was desperate to change the subject and craving the release of the stress that had found it's way back into his shoulders. Harry grinned.

"If we go again, you're going to have to help me get to the couch." Ron scoffed.

"Abandoning the game then? Why is it my responsibility to get you relocated?" Harry sat up again slowly to reload the pipe. He was much steadier than Ron expected, and he found himself wondering how wasted Harry actually was.

"Because you're the best mate ever." He said, flourishing the pipe as he lit his wand. Was it Ron's imagination or were the clouds more dense? As the mist hit his skin, the sensation made him feel rather light headed.

After he hit the pipe again he succumbed to the weightless haze of happy, his discomfort immediately faded. His throat was rather raw, but he knew if he drank he wouldn't be able to stop. What he really wanted was a cold glass of water. The thought of traveling to the kitchen now was a more daunting task than he'd want to undertake. It seemed hundreds of kilometers away. It felt like it would take ages, and he didn't want to sacrifice the overwhelming presence of what was happening right now. After a few more minutes and hits, Harry lifted his arms without preamble. Ron rose, steadying himself. The floor was swaying a bit beneath his long legs.

Reaching for Harry he grasped his strangely hot hands and pulled him up from the floor. His eyes were open, but Ron could tell his eyelids were getting heavy. His head rolled along his neck for a second while he got his bearings, but once he was on his feet he seemed quite steady.

"You good?" Harry looked up and gave him a wide smile.

"Never better." Had his lips always been so… full? He found he couldn't take his eyes off of his best friend's flushed coral lips. They were so plump, so… kissable. He wanted to. He wished he could just lean in and…

"I've always loved your freckles. You have a lot more than Ginny. I think they're cute." Ron had never given much thought to his freckles, other than to note that he had them. But he felt a swell in his chest at those words. _He likes my freckles._

Harry moved past him towards the sofa, still holding his hands. Ron didn't want to let him go. Almost as if he let Harry go he'd never see him again. He couldn't let that happen. Luckily, Harry didn't make any move to let go. Instead, he pitched backward on the sofa still holding onto him. If he had been more in control of the situation he might have sought to avoid it, but Ron found he was blissfully happy and didn't care. It was Christmas Eve, he was high and drunk, he had no worries in the next forty-eight hours, and his best friend who he was hopelessly in love with had just dragged him onto a piece of furniture on top of him. They squirmed a bit until they had found a position that accommodated both of them with Ron laying partially on Harry's chest with a knee in between his thighs. Ron was gauging his presence of mind while enjoying the calming effect of the drugs on his body. His mind felt foggy, and he had the significant thought more than once that something was wrong but couldn't think of what that might be. After a few minutes, Harry spoke again.

"Ron?"

"Nngh?"

"What does anal sex feel like?" Ron processed the question. He felt like this question should have made him uncomfortable for some reason, but he couldn't really think of what that reason might be. He chose not to go looking for answers that weren't there.

"I've never actually been penetrated by a bloke other than his fingers before, so I'm not sure. I know what a prostate orgasm feels like though." Harry turned his head to the side, the better to look at him. He was wearing that strange grin again, it was extremely sexy. Ron grinned back.

"So, you're on top? All the time?" Ron nodded, wondering why there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind telling him to shut up. This was Harry, he could talk with him about anything. That voice could go to hell.

"I knew it! When I think of you, I always picture you on top." He couldn't think of why he felt so good at those words. His ears were reddening, but he found he didn't care.

"So, what does a prostate orgasm feel like?" Ron couldn't take his eyes off Harry's. They were the same bright green they had always been, but there was something different in them. Ron wished he could reach in through those lenses and grab it. That's when he felt it. Harry was hard. And upon realizing it, made him harden again.

"It's kind of hard to explain…" Harry let out an exasperated sigh.

"Can you try? Because I really want to know. I've tried reaching my own, but the angle is so hard to reach and I don't think my fingers are long enough." Ron could feel his heart beating so fast he thought his ribcage might crack just from the strain of holding it in his chest. His pants were now uncomfortably tight and he could feel himself already leaking through his briefs. He opened his mouth to try to explain the sensation when he realized he had lost almost complete control over his mental faculties. For one thing, his hand was now palming Harry's crotch through the too thick fabric. Second-

"I could just show you what it feels like." Whatever he had meant to say, it had NOT been that. It was as though suddenly he was split into two separate people: sober Ron, and high Ron. Sober Ron was screaming his head off for high Ron to stop. High Ron didn't seem to care much, and he was stuck in the middle wondering which side of himself he should listen to. In all reality though, his decision had already been made for him.

"Yes, touch me, please." Harry was on him in an instant, yanking him forward by his collar and pressing their lips together. It was like he had never kissed anyone until that moment. He had kissed men before, so many times now, it failed to do anything for him- depending on the bloke he was doing that night of course. As with everything, Harry took him completely by surprise. He couldn't quite come to terms with the fact that he was kissing his best friend. Also, the term 'kissing' didn't quite cover what they were doing. It was like Harry was waging war with his lips, which in a strange way he found fitting. He responded vigorously, their teeth clashing against one another as Harry plundered the inside of mouth.

He was still working against Harry's groin, but his pants were proving annoying. He figured if Harry wanted him to stop he would say so. The ginger took it upon himself to unhook his pants and work them loose. Harry broke away from him suddenly, and Ron felt that one terrible second pass where he was afraid his friend would realize what he was doing and come to his senses. He was proved wrong however.

"Yeah, It's so hot in here. I have to take this off." Pushing against Ron so he could sit up, he grabbed the hem of his sweater and hurriedly pulled it up over his head. Not wasting time Ron lunged for his wand, still resting next to the chess board and hurriedly cast a summoning charm on his lube upstairs. In his haste, he may have lacked the concentration necessary to complete it. The plastic bottle made it to the room, but lost heart halfway and landed on the floor skidding to a halt on the floor. He went to pick it up but was beaten to the punch by Harry who reached out a hand for it. Ron was surprised to see the bottle fly the remaining several inches to his hand. Harry didn't often make magic happen without his wand. It kind of turned him on. Harry laid the bottle behind him on the arm of the sofa, and quickly started pulling on Ron's sweater. He took the hint, and pulled it off.

He kept waiting for Harry to snap out of it any moment, like a trance ending. He kept locking eyes just to make sure he didn't see any doubt. Each second Harry fed to his desires, he felt stronger- more in control of his life than he had ever felt before. He pushed Harry down to lay on his back and moved off the couch. His friend looked so startled Ron was sure he was thinking along the same lines he was. Each of them, terrified the other was going to move away. He grabbed the hem of his friend's pants and gave a wild jerk, tearing the fabric of him in one fluid motion. Ron threw the pants across the room, where they landed on the shade of a crimson floor lamp and effectively dimming the light in the room.

It changed the atmosphere completely. It was then that Ron put some key pieces together. The liquor, the flickering warm fire, low lighting. It was the perfect storm for romance, and it was like he hadn't realized it until now. Had Harry done this on purpose? He disregarded the thought almost immediately. Harry was completely naked and stretched out on the sofa. He was giving Ron an almost threatening look, and stroking himself. He had never seen Harry look so fierce before, at least not since You-Know-Who's downfall. Ron found himself wondering how in hell Ginny could not have felt this connection. He'd never even had sex with Harry and the chemistry between them was electrifying. Ron couldn't get his pants off fast enough.

He had just climbed back on the couch with Harry, when he caught a glimpse of the other's face.

"What? What's wrong?" The response was a needy moan, that made his cock jerk happily.

"Gods, Ron. Your dick." Ron felt his ears heat up, the fog in his head clearing away a bit at the embarrassment.

"Er…yeah. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should have mentioned-"

"How do you fit it in your pants?" Ron chose not to answer, instead moving to retrieve his pants from the floor. He was stopped by an incredibly warm hand gripping around the base, and he couldn't help the sharp inhale.

"You have to be, what? Like almost twenty-five centimeters?" Ron swallowed hard. He had always grown up fast, tall, and eventually broad like his brother Bill. He had always had long legs and big hands and feet, and he had also inherited girth in other areas as well. It would seem like a blessing in most cases, but it was actually not as great as it seemed. A lot of the men he saw, were fairly intimidated by how large he was and some of them had even bailed when they had seen him. He had to be fairly careful, not to hurt anyone. He hadn't meant to put pressure on Harry, and hadn't given the thought to what him being naked might imply. Harry didn't seem all too worried though, he was stroking him and squeezing just a bit too tight. The pressure was making it all worth it though, Ron was almost delirious with the sensation.

"This thing could wreck me." Ron's eyes shot open immediately to look at the other boy in shock. Harry was panting, his unattended cock leaking already on his stomach, and when their eyes locked Harry seemed to realize on some level that he was disturbing him.

"Ron, kiss me." It was like he was enchanted. Obediently he leaned over Harry and they began their dance again. Harry's hand was working between them, gripping them both like a vice and moving furiously. He felt like he could feel both their hearts beating in tandem, their tongues twining in sync. His hands searched every part of Harry he could reach, he let his nails scratch against his flesh just to make sure it was all real and still happening. Harry moaned each time he did this, Ron supposed he really did like it rough. When Harry bucked up against him, Ron remembered what they were about and broke off their embrace. His friend looked dazed, but a look of comprehension and excitement overtook him as he saw Ron grab the bottle of lube.

"I've always wanted to do this." Ron looked back at him, he picked up no signs of reluctance from the boy beneath him.

"Yeah, me too." Ron wasn't entirely sure Harry had meant it to come out so… sincere. As though his words were only meant for him, but that didn't make it any less meaningful. He felt they had a connection tonight, the planets had aligned just right for their romance to bloom. Ron didn't plan on wasting it. He slid in one lubricated finger, planning to take it slow for his friend's sake. He was surprised to hear Harry moan in pleasure, his muscles clenching only minimally before relaxing.

Had Harry seriously never done this? Because he seemed to know exactly what to do, and how to do it. He had been with a couple virgins before, and had never gotten this reaction. Even drunk they were almost always a little nervous. If they hadn't before they had gotten started, they certainly had to learn to relax once they were penetrated for the first time. Even experienced men took a few minutes sometimes to get used to the intrusion and the minor pain that was associated with having an appendage inside them were there hadn't been before. Yet Harry, was almost immediately arching into him, asking for another. He added another finger, spreading them apart and feeling around trying to determine were Harry's pleasure point was or at least to determine how much he could take without tensing. But the tense hadn't come, instead Harry seemed to be going slightly insane with need. His member was issuing ejaculate from the tip, but Harry wasn't touching himself. Instead the raven-haired boy grabbed Ron's forearm and pulled on it hard, trying to force his fingers in deeper. So Ron added another finger.

Harry hissed in pleasure, the muscles tensing deliciously on his fingers for a moment before relaxing again. It felt like Harry was as easy to open up as a muggle combination lock. This reaction was completely unprecedented and he couldn't help but feel mounting excitement as his friend tossed and turned and bucked beneath him. The excitement soon faded to confusion as he couldn't find Harry's prostate. It's as though it wasn't there. Which definitely couldn't be accurate, unless Harry had once been a woman- which he doubted. All the same, Ron's continued search was fruitless even after several minutes. Where was it? A normal man's prostate was about two inches in and towards the stomach. He probed and prodded, curling his fingers towards him, even rotating them everywhere within reach and he couldn't locate it. He was starting to get frustrated. Ron had promised him a prostate orgasm, which given his experience should have been no problem as long as Harry could have one. He had found out some men were incapable, but they at least HAD a prostate. Where the fuck was Harry's?

"Please, just fuck me." Ron was so shocked he stopped moving his fingers for a moment.

"No, it's okay, I'm sure I can find it-"

"Ron, want you to fuck me." He was so hard it was painful, and he wanted to. Oh, Merlin did he want to. The last thing he'd want to do in his current state however, would be to hurt Harry.

"I don't want to hurt you." Harry let out an agonized groan of impatience, snatching his glasses off his face and depositing them on the floor.

"I want it to hurt." Harry's voice was a menacing growl, and Ron was so turned on he couldn't have stopped himself if someone had cast an impediment jinx. Pulling out his fingers he coated himself generously with more lube and entered Harry. He knew he'd be bigger than his fingers, and it would stretch Harry more than his friend probably thought. He was somewhat comforted by the wince of pain reminding him The Chosen One was still human. Although, when he got himself perhaps half way in he slowed. Still pushing in, but carefully. He met some resistance and thought it might be Harry tensing up, although the boy was already so amazingly tight he could barely restrain himself from slamming into him as hard as possible. This was Harry though, and he planned to give him the best experience possible.

Then it happened. Harry let out a shuddering gasp his head thrown back and the tendons standing out in his neck. Ron stopped, but didn't see any sign of pain. He pulled out and pushed in again and Harry arched his back drawing in a sharp breath, panting heavily. He could see sweat beading on his forehead, and it was the most intense thing he'd ever seen.

"Keep going, don't stop." Ron complied pushing himself in further and it seemed that he arrived in Harry fully sheathed, with his friend's whole body screaming it's assent. Those green eyes were clouded with lust, his hands gripped his hips, nails digging into his skin, legs wrapped around his waist. Even the boy's ass seemed reluctant to let him go as he pulled out and pushed back in a little quicker. Harry pulled him down closer and they were kissing again, and Ron couldn't help but feel the passion. This must mean something after tonight, it had to. Ron had physical sex that was just that: physical. It was a bodily function taken care of and then he never saw the guy again. This was something altogether new to him. He didn't know if he could go back to having random sex again after this. He pushed the thought away. Eager to accept the possibility that Harry would still want this when he woke up.

He certainly wanted it enough now, he was bucking against Ron trying to draw him in deeper. He sucked Ron's tongue so viciously he thought it might part company with the rest of him. He was clutching onto Ron's back with both hands. His skin was so hot he was surprised he hadn't magically caught fire. And he kept making the most arousing noises; somehow he had always pictured Harry quiet during sex, but on this count again had been wrong. He would moan and growl and curse; it was music to his ears.

He remembered that Harry like it rough and decided to experiment. He liked knowing what made people tick and pushing limits. He had never been given the chance with Harry, at least not in this capacity, so he decided to test the waters. He pulled on Harry's hair and his friend whimpered, at first he thought it was in pain, but when he looked up Harry's eyes glowed with inner fire.

"Harder." His voice was dark, and that sexy growl was back. He pulled harder and could feel Harry's cock pulse against his stomach as he cried out.

"You like that, don't you?" Harry nodded vehemently, and Ron could see the need in his eyes.

"What else do you like?"

"Bite me." He bit down on the standing cords in his friend's neck, and was rewarded by a genuine scream of pleasure. His heart seemed to beat out the measure of that scream, and it sounded like war drums in his head. Harry was chanting for him to bite harder, fuck him harder, and it was like blows repeatedly hammering straight into his brain. He snapped and an animal in him he had no idea he had broke loose.

He pulled out, and turned Harry on his side swinging his legs over the side of the sofa. Positioning himself at his entrance he angled himself slightly towards Harry's stomach, aiming for his prostate, and slammed into him as hard as he could. Harry screamed again, and Ron took his momentary confusion to use as an advantage. He grabbed both of Harry's wrists and pulled them into one hand pinning them to the arm of the couch. The other hand he used to grip Harry's thigh, putting all the pressure into digging his nails into the flesh. Harry's eyes were a green inferno, lighting him up from the inside out, and his lips were singing his praises in between profanities and cries of satisfaction.

"You want it hard? I'll give you hard." One assenting cry from Harry later and he was thrusting as hard as he could into the other boy, his hips moving as furiously as possible. It was the most blissful and sinful sensation and he couldn't stop it. The heat was mounting, his orgasm building and he knew he wouldn't be able to prevent it for long. Almost as soon as he thought about letting Harry's hands go for him to assist in wanking his friend to completion, the boy came without even being touched. Harry's eyes bulged as his back arched in a perfect glistening sweaty curve against the cushion, and his come rocketed out like a jet stream. It stained Harry's chest, the couch, the floor…

The sight was enough. If it wasn't the simultaneous tightening of Harry's already tight muscles definitely was. He had no time to pull out or warn him, and then he was coming and the heat combined with the release made him tremble as the waves of his orgasm hit him. Harry was still shaking with his own ecstatic climax. He pulled out carefully, and without the energy to stand up he just tanked right on top of his friend. Who didn't seem to mind, and was using his free hands to stroke his back tenderly.

"Ron, thank you so much. That was the most…" His friend trailed off, and twisting his head around to look at Harry saw that he was just gaping trying to find the right words.

"That good?" Harry nodded fervently.

"Amazing. I never thought I could come without touching myself." Ron nodded.

"I suppose you just needed the right buttons pressed."

"I think I just needed the right person to press them." Ron tried not to look too deeply into that. Looking away, he tried to clear his head and separate fact and desire. Now that the experience was over and they were both satiated he was trying not to think too much about what was going to happen next. Or if there would ever be a next time once Harry had sobered up and realized what they did. What if he was angry and thought Ron took advantage of him? What if he woke up limping, and had no recollection as to how he got that way? Ron had always thought he had done a good job of holding himself back, but tonight had been his weakest point. Sure, he had been drunk and high, but that wasn't an excuse. He should have waited for them to sober up and talk about this rationally.

He couldn't at all deny that he had enjoyed himself either. He knew now that no other lover would come close to this night. Harry had likely ruined all future sex for him at this point. Anytime he'd try he wouldn't be able to think of anything else, other than his best friend's face when he came, those legs wrapped around his waist, the sweat running down his chest…

He turned back to Harry to ask him a question, but his chest was already rising and falling rhythmically. Harry was asleep. Sighing he reached over the side of the sofa, grappling for his wand. After casting a cleansing spell, he decided to stay on the sofa with Harry and summoned a fluffy emerald blanket to cover them. Harry burrowed underneath him, and Ron's last thought as he fell asleep was that even if all hell broke loose he would have this perfect memory forever.

When Ron woke up the next morning he cuddled into the warm body next to him. Funny. He didn't remember bringing a bloke home last night. Then everything came flooding back, and he tensed up immediately. He had Harry basically trapped underneath him. Opening his eyes and turning his head he thought he may be able to get up before his friend and clean everything up. Instead he came face to face with brilliant green eyes and knew it was futile.

"Good morning, handsome." Ron was frozen. How long had he been awake? As if he were practicing Legilimency, Harry replied.

"I've only been awake maybe fifteen minutes. I didn't want to wake you." He was smiling like it was Christmas. Holy shit, it was Christmas.

"So…you remember everything, then?" Harry nodded.

"Hell yes! How could I possibly forget sex that good?" Ron's heart jumped up his throat. He sat up hurriedly, a smile spreading across his face.

"You don't regret it? You're not upset?" Harry looked stunned at the prospect, as he sat up next to him.

"Regret it? As I recall, I practically tried to force you. You aren't mad, right?" Ron shook his head leaning over he wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him close.

"Is this okay?" His friend snorted.

"More than okay. I just wanted to talk to you about last night." This was it. This is when everything went wrong. Ron had had several guys have "the talk" with him; saying it was fun, but they weren't looking for a relationship and this was a one time thing. It all meant the same. One man came right out and said Ron had intimidated him, and couldn't be bothered to try it again and left limping. He at least appreciated that one's honesty.

"Are we more than friends?" Harry asked.

"Er…don't you want to be friends?"

"Not really, no." Ron felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Surely, Harry wasn't about to tell him he had to move out.

"I know you said you didn't have 'boyfriends', but I thought maybe we could do last night again…sometime." Harry looked like he was struggling to find the right words. Ron couldn't pinpoint what it was he was seeing in his friend's eyes, he looked almost frightened.

"I didn't hurt you? You want to go again?" Maybe he'd been too high the night before to gauge the situation accurately, Ron thought. Harry was smaller than some of the other guys he had brought home, he had a hard time believing that he could withstand more than some of the bigger more experienced men he'd had.

"Of course it hurt! I thought you understood. I like the pain, I want it. As soon as possible preferably." Ron shook his head.

"I must be going mad." Harry gave him a quizzical look, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"Harry, I haven't had a boyfriend because I've been hung up on you for years. I've always wanted you, and now all of a sudden…" His friend's eyes widened, and he suddenly registered that he had a lap full of Harry Potter.

"Ron, I've wanted you for ages! In fact, one of the reasons Ginny broke up with me is because she thought I was trying to replace you with her. I thought she was out of her tree when she told me that, but since you've been living with me I've started thinking she may have been right from the beginning." He was spared responding by lips plying at his own, insistent hands pulling him by his hair, and he responded back in kind. When they broke apart Harry's cheeks were flushed.

"I just planned on keeping it to myself, and then last night… I don't know what made me start asking questions or egging me on, but something just told me to. I don't know if it was the whiskey or the weed, but I'm not complaining." Harry was interrupted by a tap on the window. Raising himself and Harry from the sofa, they broke apart and Ron opened the window. A large tawny owl flew in with a large package tied to it's legs.

"Oh yeah, presents!" He looked at Harry, whose eyes lit up. The raven-haired boy who never received presents as a child frequently forgot one of the highlights of the holiday.

"I kind of feel like I already got mine."

"Trust me, you haven't yet." He gave his friend a wink and received a generous blush in return.

The package turned out to be from Hermione. She addressed her letter to the both of them:

Harry and Ron,

I'm so sorry if this gets to you late. I've been absolutely buried in paperwork for the past 72 hours and when I realized how late it had gotten I could have kicked myself. Luckily Klaus, my associate, managed to procure an owl for me to send you your gift!

I hope your holiday is going well, especially since you don't have to deal with Molly this year. I do hope you won't hesitate to visit them though, if you get lonely there all by yourselves. I'm terribly busy, but I hope to be back late January to early February. Although, if everything goes well I will have to make the rounds again monthly, but those trips will be short. I'll be sure to visit when I get back, I have loads to tell you but I don't want to overburden this poor bird.

Try to stay out of trouble! I miss you both!

Love from,

Hermione

The package contained a large amount of marzipan, a couple bottles of presumably beer with a label that bore the legend Verärgert Drachen, and (probably for Ron) a book of popular tourist attractions in Germany. Harry gave a triumphant cheer and went for the booze.

"Come on, it's not even noon. I don't know what time it is, but it's definitely too early." Harry raced to the kitchen, making a statement of it never being too early.

"Well, I'm going to check upstairs for more gifts. Want me to bring yours down?"

"I'm enjoying this one for right now, I'll get them myself." Ron set the box down on the couch, stepping over the leftover chess scene from last night and hurried upstairs. He had taken the guest room next to the room that used to be Walburga's and now Harry's. He peered in, saw the telltale pile of presents on the end of his bed and smiled. If anyone deserved a fat pile of presents, it was his best friend. He passed on to his room.

His mum had sent her customary sweater, a piece of steak and kidney pie, and a letter chastising him for not spending Christmas with the family. Bill had sent him some weights that magically got heavier as you worked out with them to keep you from plateauing. He had started taking tips from Bill as he had grown taller and not at all wider. His mother kept remarking that he looked like taffy that had been pulled too long. Bill had always had a similar problem but after finding an exercise routine that worked for him he had started bulking up. He had since helped Ron grow out a little more, and he largely had him to thank for his more recent sexual exploits. Ginny had sent him a golden compass; very fine, and almost definitely goblin made. He travelled often with his job. He used to fly, but now mostly travelled by portkey. She hadn't known that though, and it was definitely a nice gift. He hadn't received a present from Percy in years, so he didn't expect anything from him. Charlie had sent an authentic drinking horn made from a Welsh green horn that they had to have cut off due to infection.

Then there was George's gift. He had sporadically received gifts from Fred and George over the years. He supposed they didn't like to feel obligated, so they skipped every once in a while just to keep him guessing. This year though Ron ripped the paper off of another book. One year while he was still in school, and under the impression he was straight, they had given him a book on how to charm witches. This year the title read: _The Dominatwitch's Guide to S &M_. What the fuck? Why would George have given him this? He flipped through the book, taking in some of the contents. There was an entire chapter on the application of strengthening solutions. _Charming, Bondage, and You_ took up another large chunk. There was a chart of comfortable levitation restraining holds that took up two whole pages. As in all wizarding books, the pictures were moving. Despite the title there were no witches in evidence. Flipping to the front, he found the author: Sofawnda Peters. He laughed out loud. His brother had bought him a book written by a dominatrix drag queen. That was definitely a first.

He flipped to the front of the book, reading the beginning few pages _How to Treat Your Submissive_. Where he found a note in it's pages.

Little brother,

After doing a bit of digging I've uncovered some dirt on you! Don't worry, I'm not blackmailing you. I'm just really proud of my detective skills. You may recall I gave you a book a couple years ago, that you have no use for anymore. Since you seem to enjoy the company of young men now, I thought I'd give you a replacement you can hopefully enjoy with a willing partner.

Hope you have fun with Harry,

George

P.S. Hope you enjoyed the ganja, it's my own special batch!

He was thunderstruck. He hadn't told anyone in his family about his sexual preferences. He hadn't even told Bill. Granted, when Bill had asked if he had any prospective girlfriends he had said he didn't ever want another. The only one who had known about him was Hermione and Harry. He had requested their discretion. He wouldn't think either of them would have told anyone. Ron also had the sneaking suspicion that the 'special batch' that George had given him had not contained dragon claw. He had wondered after seeing the strain why it had been golden and not darker. What had George put in the marijuana?

"Uh, hey Ron?" A wavering call reached him from next door.

"I just got a real weird gift from your brother…" Harry was now in his doorway, and his heart all but stopped in his chest. What the hell had George gotten him? He looked at Harry's startled eyes from his position leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah, I got something pretty weird too." Harry raised his eyebrows. He had put on a pair of jeans and a green button down collared shirt that he had rolled up to expose those perfect arms. Ron couldn't help but admire his dress sense, since he was allowed to. Without comment he raised the book, and handed it to his lover. Harry's eyes grew wide as he looked up in shock, mouth open and eyebrows raised.

"Also, there was a note." Harry read the note over at least three times, and from the look on his face Ron knew he hadn't been the one to tell George. At last, he looked up and voiced exactly what Ron had been thinking.

"So what the fuck did he put in that pot?!" They discussed for several minutes what could have been in the mixture. It was clearly different from the natural herb, and after discussing in detail how they had both been loose-lipped and forward the night before it had clearly been something designed to get them together.

"How did he know we were gay? I mean, I didn't even know I was gay until… Well, I guess until last night." Ron looked at his friend in astonishment.

"You didn't know you were gay?!" Harry bit his lip. Ron found the gesture very endearing.

"Well, I thought about you before. But not really blokes in general. I don't think of girls at all though. So, I don't really know what I am, but I like you." His ears were burning, and Harry noticed. Smirking he kissed Ron lightly.

"And I've always thought it was cute when your ears go red like that." Ron forced his flush down, looking away.

"Well, the only way we're going to figure out how the fuck he knew is to go over to mum's." Harry looked up at him.

"So, do you want to tell them? About us, I mean?" Ron had never considered telling them he was gay. He liked having one thing he didn't share with anyone. That part of his life had been his alone, but he'd enjoyed it for a few years now. There was no reason to keep it secret really, with George knowing the other family members would figure out soon. He'd also really like to be the one to tell them, and not George. He didn't know how the rest of his family would react, and that bothered him.

"Are you comfortable with that?" Harry nodded.

"Definitely, if you are. Then maybe your mom will give up on me and Ginny. She still tries to act like we're still together, it's incredibly awkward." Ron laughed at that, and Harry left the room. He rose to get clothes on, and after he was dressed he realized Harry hadn't told him what George had given him. He chased Harry down next door, where he was organizing his gifts.

"You never told me what George got you." Harry looked up a deep blush settling in his cheeks.

"Oh, er…well. Mine came with a note, I just realized when I got back in here." Ron looked around. He didn't see anything that looked likely. Harry moved past him to the bureau and opened the drawer. Inside on top of Harry's socks was a large bright blue dildo that was slightly larger than his penis fully erect. It was also a bit thicker. Harry rifled underneath and drew out a note. Snatching it up, he read:

Harry,

It's come to my attention that you've become a real man's man, of sorts. I'm sure my brother appreciates that. I know you've had a fun holiday, but I know Quidditch training is going to be back up in full swing soon and you won't be able to enjoy each other's company quite as much. Here's for those lonely nights when you're abroad for the season. It has a charm on it that can adjust speed based on body temperature and muscle tension. Hopefully, this can keep you satisfied!

Love,

George

P.S. Make sure to get back to me on how you liked that ganja. I made it special for the both of you.

Ron looked up at Harry who was pointedly scratching the paint off of the surface of the furniture. At last, not having anywhere else to go Harry looked up. Ron picked up the dildo out of the drawer.

"Have you tried this out yet?" Harry shook his head.

"Would you like to?" He pressed the shorter boy up against the dresser. Harry looked behind himself uncertainly, down at the sex toy, and finally up again at Ron. His eyes narrowed, and his voice came out a little strained.

"You aren't going to fuck me?" Ron put on his most dangerous smile, and was glad to see his lover's eyes darkened.

"Not at first, but if you're a good boy perhaps you can earn it." Harry let out a small involuntary sound, and Ron could feel his cock harden inside his jeans. He leaded forward, pressing his lips to Harry's ear.

"What does the good boy say?" Harry was breathing heavily, and he leaned into Ron's touch like he was melting.

"Y-yes sir." Ron's chest gave a pleasant jerk. He had never ever had anyone call him 'sir' before. Coming out of Harry's mouth was strangely provocative. He could feel himself harden in his own pants, and as a reward rolled his hips against Harry's. His friend moaned in response and leaned his body back against the dresser, elbows on the surface, and head rolled back. Ron, with a sudden burst of inspiration grabbed him by the throat to pull him forward. The boy's eyes widened, but he didn't pull away. Ron put his lips against the shell of his ear again and whispered.

"I want you to undress, get on that bed, and wait for me. I'll be back for you." He could feel Harry swallow. And he nipped at his earlobe before letting him go. He set the dildo back on the dresser, giving Harry a fleeting look. His last sight before leaving the room was the slim seeker tearing himself out of his own clothes.

He quickly darted downstairs to retrieve his wand and then detoured back into his room. Opening his wardrobe, he dug through piles of discarded robes and muggle clothing (he had never been very organized), until he reached his black box. Over his term of sexual exploits he had acquired a sizable kink stash. He rifled through before pulling out his pair of leather cuffs. They were black and red and about 5cm thick with heavy silver buckles. There was a detachable chain that only gave about 10 cm of leeway. He was guessing about Harry's tastes. He figured if he was opposed he would say so. Quickly, he stripped himself of his clothing again, filled with anticipation over what he was about to do. This would be the first time he'd done this with Harry without them being under the influence. It was strange for him to feel this apprehensive about sex. Then again, the sex he had with other men was of no consequence to him.

He quickly made his way back to Harry's room. Ron found himself greeted with the pleasant view of his friend stretched out on the bed playing with himself. He stopped to admire the view. He hadn't had the presence of mind to take in the fine specimen he'd had last night. Harry had always been pretty thin, but Quidditch had filled him out wonderfully. He had a slim toned body, with prevalent abdominal muscles. Not quite a buff six pack, but evident nevertheless. It actually suited him more this way, being a smaller man. He was made to be fast, sleek, and he was sexy as hell. His erect cock stood up proudly from a nest of dark curling pubic hair that Ron found extremely appetizing, his slicked up organ disappearing under frantic fingers. His own member was aching for contact. He realized Harry was watching him.

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" The hand stopped immediately. Ron smiled, and launched himself on the bed next to the man waiting for him. Harry's eyes widened when he saw the cuffs.

"What are those? Where did you get them?" Ron flicked his wand and Harry was bound to the headboard, the chain clinking ominously from around the dark mahogany.

"I think you know what they are. As to where I got them… Let's just say there's a shop in down Knockturn Alley we need to frequent together sometime." Harry smiled, glancing up at his bound wrists and experimentally tugging on them. Ron set himself on the helpless man before him, working his way from his neck down to his abdomen, biting down and leaving marks wherever possible to shouted exaltation on Harry's part. Ignoring the dick that was clamoring for attention he skipped straight to his thighs.

"Come on, Ron! Don't tease so much!" He scratched Harry's thighs, and was glad to see them shaking beneath him.

"Harry, if you tell me what to do one more time I'm going to gag you." Harry immediately fell silent. Looking up he saw a mingled stare of shock and arousal.

"Besides, I don't get many opportunities to play with my food before I eat it." Harry gasped and squirmed beneath him as he continued sucking and biting up his legs, taking as long as possible. He was sure Harry was going to explode under the pressure; he was panting and cursing under his breath, but he hadn't complained further. Suddenly Ron realized he had left the lube downstairs.

"Shit." Harry looked down at him. "I left the lube downstairs." Harry jerked his head towards the nightstand.

"Top drawer." He looked at Harry skeptically.

"You've needed lube before?" Harry was still breathing heavily, and he yanked pointlessly on his chains.

"I have tried penetrating myself before, you know." Ron licked his lips at the thought.

"Any success?" Harry flushed.

"Until last night, no." Ron grinned and bound off the bed. He opened the drawer, and was surprised to find that lube wasn't plainly visible. Apparently, Harry was just as bad at organization as he was.

"Is this one of my shirts?" Pulling a tshirt from the drawer that was definitely too big for Harry. Turning it inside out he saw The Weird Sisters logo from when he had attended a concert a few months back. Harry had been out of town for a match. His friend groaned from his place on the bed.

"YES! It's your shirt. Can we talk about this later?" Ron laughed, but discarded the shirt and shuffled the remaining contents around before finding a bright red bottle of liquid. He looked at Harry again, grinning.

"Strawberry flavored?" Harry was bright red, clearly embarrassed. He looked strangely cute, despite his current position.

"I was curious! Dammit, I should have just let you go downstairs." Ron resumed his station on the bed, popping open the cap.

"Oh, I dunno. This changes the plans a bit." Harry looked torn between shame and curiosity.

"What do you mean?" He grunted as Ron pressed two lubed up fingers inside him and began to play.

"Well, strawberry flavored ass sounds amazing, don't you think?" Harry didn't answer, but his eyes fluttered beneath long lashes. Ron pulled out his fingers and pulled his thighs up with his arms, making the chain clink on the hard wood. Laying down on his stomach, he looked up at his newfound boyfriend to find his eyes wide with understanding.

"Wait, you're not actually going to-" Ron gave the pucker a tentative lick, and felt the bound boy shudder beneath him. He enjoyed his teasing for a few moments, before pushing his tongue through the resistant muscle. It tasted exactly like strawberry. He could feel his own cock throbbing underneath him with excitement. He had never done this before, the sensation was an overwhelming one. The muscle was clenching tightly on his tongue, and the pressure was somewhat addicting. He'd never had suction this strong on tongue before. It felt as though Harry's body was trying to consume him. It made his heart pound. The strawberry was filling his mouth, but Harry's thighs were wrapped around his head. It made breathing kind of difficult, but the other boy's scent was maddening and all around him. The smell of sweat and skin, so close, and willing, and begging for him. Harry was his entire world, and he could definitely see now why people would choose to do this. He had never rimmed anyone in his entire life, thinking it was something too far out for him to try. Ron had no desire to try it with anyone else, but Harry…

Harry was a great receiver. He let out the most gratifying sounds; Ron could hear him panting and moaning and begging. The other boy only seemed embarrassed before the act had begun, but once it had started he was good at letting Ron know he was enjoying it. Ron had been with strangely silent people before. It was hard to know if what you were doing was giving them any pleasure, and when he had asked it was like wrestling for an answer to know what felt good or not. Harry was anything but a dead fish. Ron could hear the bonds scraping against the wood with Harry's struggle to push himself further onto Ron's face, his thighs were wrapped so tightly around him it was starting to hurt his neck, his jaw was sore, but the reward was so satisfying he didn't want to stop. He could feel Harry's feet pressing into his naked back, arching and rubbing against his skin. Ron loved it when his previous lovers had clutched his back or his biceps when they came. He was proud of the work he had done on them, and it made him feel desirable.

"Ron, please just fuck me!" He looked up, Harry was covered in sweat and the cuffs were digging into his wrists. He looked desperate and sexy, and Ron wanted him. But not yet. He raised up, grabbing the dildo.

"Not yet, I don't think I've tortured you enough." Harry groaned in longing. Ron lubed up the dildo and pressed it up against his entrance teasingly.

"Please, just do it!" Ron wagged his finger menacingly.

"Is that anyway to address me? Ask nicely." It may be partially egotistical, but he really wanted that pleading voice to call him 'sir' again. Harry whimpered, looking up at him with arms sagging against the pillow above him.

"Please, master. Fuck me." Merlin's pants. He hadn't expected that one. 'Sir' would have done nicely. He couldn't prevent the involuntary moan that escaped him. Harry was looking up at him expectantly, and he realized he hadn't moved. He was torn between wanting to push the dildo inside him or just giving in to his own selfish desires and fucking him senseless. He decided he couldn't wait. He used his hand, gathering up the lube on the dildo and applying it to his own member. Before Harry could ask what he was doing he had sheathed himself completely in the other boy.

Harry threw his head back on the pillow and let out a piercing scream. For a moment, Ron thought he had finally pushed the other too far, but then Harry opened his eyes and looked up at him.

"Gods, move Ron!" Ron pulled back and thrust against him hard. Harry threw his head back again, pulling on the restraints. The wood groaned, and the bed was slamming into the wall with loud bangs. Finally home in that tight, hot enclosure the pressure was almost blinding. Ron could see white lights popping in his vision and knew he would come at any moment. Harry was writhing around like he was having some sort of fit, panting heavily and pulling down on the chains. Ron used a free hand to wrap around his swollen member and started pulling ruthlessly. He couldn't seem to control his hips as they battered relentlessly into his friend with no discernable rhythm. Harry's name was repeatedly falling through his lips like a prayer.

 _Crack!_

Ron forced his vision to clear, but it was immediately obstructed. He got one fleeting glimpse of splintered mahogany before he felt a forceful jerk around the back of his neck and he was dragged forward. Hands tangled in his hair, and he felt cool metal press into his flesh. Harry's mouth engulfed his, and he understood. He had broken the piece of wood anchoring him to the headboard. He was still moving mechanically, his hand moving frantically against Harry. He had never been more turned on in his life. Ron wrenched his mouth away from his friend to look at his face. His eyes were barely opened, his tongue hanging out of his still open mouth, a trail of his saliva dripping down his cheek. He looked possessed.

"Fuck Harry!"

"Harder. I'm going to come." Fuck, how hard did he want it?! His body complied for him, eager to see Harry lose control, to look at his face, feel the pulse of his release. The chain around his neck pressed tightly against his skin, and he could feel the clasp digging through his flesh. With one final scream, the cords on Harry's neck tightened and Ron could feel his engorged cock relieving itself in his hand. The muscles in his arse squeezed alarmingly as he continued to batter into him. Harry leaned up and bit him hard on the neck. He felt the flesh give and warm liquid run down his shoulder. His vision faded and colorful lights flashed, and he came. It was easily the best orgasm he had ever had. The waves of ecstasy rolled over him as he felt himself swell inside Harry. The pressure became too much and he pulled out of his lover, collapsing on top of him.

For a while neither boy spoke. Ron could feel Harry's chest heaving in time with his. He rested his head on his lover's sweaty chest, listening to his heart pound. The area on his neck where Harry had bit him was throbbing painfully, but Ron couldn't bring himself to care. After a while, Harry clinked the chains pointedly and pulled his hands over Ron's head. Wordlessly he undid the leather buckles and tossed the cuffs on the floor. He looked at his lover and was surprised to see tears rolling down his face. Ron was immediately alarmed. He raised himself up a few inches, and turned his face to look him in the eyes.

"Gods, did I hurt you? I'm really sorry. I-" Harry was shaking his head. He pulled Ron in to kiss him gently, and when he broke away he saw the other boy smile.

"I'm in love with you." Ron felt his own heart pound in his ears.

"So, you're crying?" Harry sniffed.

"They're happy tears."

"Oh, thank Merlin. I thought I was bad in the sack for a moment. Don't scare me like that." Harry let out a derisive laugh and Ron felt himself relax. He pressed his face to the crook of Harry's neck, placing small tender kisses on the wet skin.

"I love you too. I think I always have." Harry's arms tightened around him. A comfortable silence fell between them. Until-

"So, you broke the headboard." Harry broke into laughter again, his chest buffeting Ron's body. Ron snickered appreciatively into his shoulder.

"We'll fix it. Your fault actually. You should have charmed the headboard, and maybe the cuffs for good measure." He looked back at Harry, his eyes were shining but the tears had stopped.

"I underestimated you." He stroked Harry's cheek affectionately, lacing his words with sugar. "You're so strong. Maybe you should be on top next time, hmm?"

"Don't patronize me." Harry was sneering at him, his lips pursed, but he didn't look mad.

"I'm not patronizing. I'm admiring. You're not the only one who likes a powerful bloke, mate. We haven't ruined the dresser yet. You could tie me up to the drawer handles and fuck me bent over the top." That wiped the smirk off his face.

"I thought you hadn't ever been on bottom before?"

"I haven't. I was saving myself." Harry raised his eyebrows. "I always told myself that the only man I wanted inside me was you." The raven-haired boy's jaw dropped.

"If I had known that we could have been doing this a long time ago!" He kissed Harry affectionately, letting his tongue taste his bottom lip before leaving him breathless.

"Well, you know now. We can concentrate on that." Harry seemed subdued, and he lowered himself to his chest letting his tongue run along the smooth skin. The scarce black hair tickling his chin. After a while, his eyes found the shirt on the floor.

"So, can we talk about that shirt now?" Harry gave a resounding sigh.

"Okay, so I've known for a while about how I felt about you and I didn't tell you. I figured if you were interested in me, you would have made it known by now. We knew you were gay, but when you were here for a while I had thought… I dunno what I was thinking, but I thought you would have brought it up. When you didn't, I thought it was just a lost cause." Ron looked up, surprised. How long had Harry known and not told him?

"That's one of the reasons I asked if you ever saw any blokes last night. I never see anybody around, and that made me hang on to this hope that maybe you… Whatever. But you were gone sometimes, in the night you wouldn't come home. I thought you might have had a boyfriend and was hiding him from me for some reason. Anyway, when you wouldn't come home sometimes… I… er…" Ron nudged him, eager to hear the rest.

"I would go through your laundry and steal one of your shirts and sleep with it, okay? It made me feel better about you not being in the house. I'd wait until the scent faded and then put it back in your laundry, and you seemed not to notice. So I kept doing it." Harry was looking fixedly at the far end of the wall, his cheeks red. Ron felt a grin grow on his face.

"Aw, that's so sweet!" Harry tried to push him away, but Ron rolled right back over him, holding him down by the shoulders laughing. His friend grabbed his upper arms, trying to make him move but Ron held his ground.

"You are depraved, Harry Potter, and I love you." He pressed their lips together. Harry struggled for a moment, then relented as he forced their tongues to tango. When they broke apart, Ron smiled down at him.

"You can still do the shirt thing if you want. I don't mind. Or you could always just wear them to bed."

"Why would I do that?" Ron trailed a lone finger down Harry's chest.

"Because I'm rather possessive," Ron lowered his voice to a whisper, pleased to see Harry's breathing pick up. "And I've always wanted to see you in something that's mine. Other than that, you wouldn't really have time to snuggle with a shirt, because I plan on being in your bed every night. I'll make sure you're occupied." Harry grinned.

"That sounds like a good plan." They kissed to seal the deal, and Ron rolled off of him.

"We had better get dressed and get to mum's or else you'll seduce me again, and we'll never make it." Harry bolted off the bed.

"I seduced YOU? You're the one who said we should try out the dildo! Which, by the way, we didn't even do!" Harry threw up his hands, and Ron laughed.

"It's your fault though. You have to stop looking so sexy or we'll never get anything done." Ignoring Harry's tirade of what constituted 'looking sexy' he got up off the bed, located his wand, and the dildo. Harry charmed himself clean, pulled on his pants, and left the room grumbling. After applying a cleansing charm on the toy and putting it and the lube in the nightstand drawer, he made to go back to his room and retrieve his clothes. In the doorway he ran into Harry.

He started to ask what he was doing in there, when he noticed what he was wearing. Harry had found one of his old sweaters his mother had made for him when he was still at Hogwarts. It was too small now for him, but he had kept it out of principle. It fit Harry though. Very nice. It hugged his pectoral muscles, and he had rolled it halfway up his forearms like he usually did. Ron grinned.

"You're seducing me again." Harry smacked his shoulder playfully.

"You told me I could wear your clothes!"

"Yeah, to bed!"

"Fine, I'll take it off." He made to pull the sweater off, but Ron stopped his hands pushing him into the doorframe.

"No, leave it. You look good in it. Just let me feel you for a minute." He licked a stripe up Harry's exposed neck, pushing up the sweater to run fingers over his abdomen. He could feel his lover relax against him, and as a final gesture, cupped his hands on Harry's ass and squeezed appreciatively before letting him go.

"You have a nice arse, just so you know." And he left Harry panting in the doorway.

After dressing himself, he came downstairs to find the other man cleaning up what was left in the living room after last night. He had just placed the chess set back on the mantle when Ron walked in. He noticed Harry eyeballing him when went to retrieve the jar of floor powder from the mantle.

"Like what you see?" Harry surprised him by giving him a playful smack on his backside.

"Just glad I don't have to pretend not to check you out anymore." Harry winked at him.

"So, how are we planning on telling your mum?" Ron rolled the jar in his hands. He had been apprehensive about that. He didn't really know how he had planned it, but it seemed his mind was coming up with the worst of scenarios.

"Well, I thought about doing it after dinner. You know, everyone will be full and happy, and it might not be such a big deal. Unless she keeps harping on about you and Ginny or something, then I might just snog you in front of everyone." Harry snorted as he snatched the jar away, pulling out a pinch of powder.

"What? I have to mark my territory!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"If you mark me anymore I'll have scars." He offered the jar to Ron, and he reached out for a small handful. Placing the jar back on the mantle Harry charmed a blazing fire in the grate and nodded at him. Taking the hint, he went first. It looked like he'd be spending the holiday with his family after all.

As he swirled in the warm emerald flames, he tried to attribute the gnawing anxiety to the churning of the ash and smoke. The flickering of grates caused his eyes to water, and his pulse to pick up. He didn't know if he wanted to finally reach his destination or just content himself with the uncomfortable sensation of being sucked through a hundred chimneys. Before he had the chance to decide he landed with an uncomfortable jolt on the solid stone grate beneath his feet. He was home. He stepped out of the fireplace in the kitchen, and was just beating the soot out of his clothes when a loud shriek reached his ears.

"Ronnie! You're here! We thought you weren't coming. I'll get your father." And before he could warn her she was sounding the alarm to the rest of the house.

"ARTHUR! Ron is home!" Ron took the precious few minutes of silence to appreciate the warmth of his childhood home. The smell of a roasting turkey permeated the kitchen, and there was baked gingerbread on the stove top. Other pans, platters, and bowls of food littered the kitchen counter and there were dishes washing themselves in the sink. He stepped to the side as he heard footsteps down the hall. His father's head poked around the corner.

"Ron, I'm glad to see you're here son. The others are around somewhere. Bill and Fleur stayed the night last night, and I believe they're upstairs putting the baby to bed." He came forward and hugged him briefly before breaking away. Then the fireplace burst into flames once more and when they had died down, Harry stepped out shaking off ash and soot. His mother bustled around the corner again, and saw him standing there. For a moment, nobody spoke, then Molly had him pressed against her. Ron smiled as he saw Harry grimace for a moment before being released.

"Harry, it's been too long! You know you're always welcome here. I think Ginny is in the living room. I'll go and get her for you." Ron rolled his eyes at Harry's panic stricken face, but Molly had already bustled away.

"Ginny! Guess who's here?!" Ron gave Harry an encouraging smile and led him into the living room. Ginny was sitting on the floor with George in the midst of an exploding snap game. When she saw Harry, Ron couldn't help but notice her stiffen. She rose and smiled at them both, and when she gave him a hug Ron could here a barely perceptible whisper as she hissed in his ear.

"I thought I was taking Christmas this year?" Harry gave her an apologetic look before settling himself in the loveseat. Ron couldn't help the drop in his stomach. Harry was so close to his family, and it was a shame they had to trade holidays just to avoid being shoved brutally together for the sole crime of not loving each other. His mother beamed at them and proceeded back to the kitchen. When she moved to hug Ron, he whispered back to her.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it." She broke away, glancing at him in confusion. Then she smiled and settled back on the floor.

"So, you decided to grace us with your presence! How very kind of you Ronnie!" Ron glared at his brother's jaunty winning tone.

"You have a lot to answer for! I'll get to you later. Right now…" He backed ominously into the kitchen again. His father had disappeared. He really didn't want to have to face this alone, but he didn't want things to get more awkward for Harry and his sister while he dawdled with his own misgivings. He moved beside his mother, and to have something to do grabbed an onion and began chopping it for her. She looked up at him surprised.

"You want to help?"

"Don't look so surprised, I used to help all the time." Molly smiled back at him fondly.

"That's been years. I didn't even know you still remembered." Ron nodded, preoccupied.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." His mum made a noise to show she'd heard, stirring a pot on the stove. Ron took a preemptive breath, mentally steeling himself.

"Could you lay off Harry and Ginny?" His mother stopped stirring. "Please."

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Her voice had gotten somewhat chilly.

"I think you know. Every time Harry and Ginny are over here you try to push them together, and they don't want to be." His mother turned towards him suddenly, abandoning the ladle.

"It's just a little spat, if nobody forces them to talk then they won't ever get back together!" She was struggling to keep her voice steady, and Ron could feel his shoulders tense perceptibly.

"They don't want to be together mum." He was trying to focus on the onion, dicing into quarters just to avoid looking at her. He had never picked a fight with his mum before, she was formidable enough without being instigated.

"And what would you know about it?" Ron lost his temper. Almost cutting his finger in his haste.

"I know because Harry talked to me about it. Said he needed something Ginny couldn't give him, and I think Ginny was more in love with the idea of Harry than the actual person." His mother paused, and suddenly jerked the knife out of his hands.

"You've helped enough dear. Please, leave the rest to me." Without a word she used her hip to scoot him to the side, resuming work on his abandoned onion. Ron knew the conversation was over. He went back to the living room. Everyone in the room looked up. Ron presumed they had heard, or else Ginny had told everyone what he was about.

"Any luck?" George asked from the floor. Ron shook his head. Harry looked down, and Ginny nodded meaningfully.

"I'm sure you did the best you could." She muttered as she picked up stray cards. Ron sat down on the loveseat next to Harry, and put his arm up on the back of the couch behind him.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I feel so guilty. Maybe we should go. I don't want to ruin everyone's holiday." Ron ran his fingers through Harry's soft black hair.

"No, we're going to get her to back off. This has to stop."

"Seriously, Harry, I'm sick of this. We shouldn't have to take shifts. If I have to make up something I'll have to. You've been as good as family to us for years, and you shouldn't have to feel bad for the way things ended up… I don't." She smiled up at them, glancing at Ron's hand in his hair. Feeling uncomfortable, Ron stopped his ministrations to lay his arm back on the couch. George was grinning.

"So, how did you like your Christmas gifts?" Ginny saved them by immediately thanking George for the new pair of earrings he had gotten her. They might have gotten out of it, if George hadn't rounded on them after she had finished.

"And you two?" Harry flushed beet red, and muttered under his breath.

"Sorry? Didn't quite catch that."

"I said, we got distracted and didn't get the chance to…look at it… really." George was smiling maliciously.

"Ah, well that's a shame. You, Ron?" He glared at George.

"I flipped through mine. I think I'll get a lot of use out of it." George grinned.

"Excellent. I think I'll get all your gifts with a similar theme from now on." Ginny was looking curiously from George to Ron to Harry and back again, but seemed to know better than to ask. Maybe she had decided she didn't want to know.

The rest of the evening turned out to be fairly enjoyable. Bill came downstairs after a while and, true to form, got Ron to start drinking eggnog and playing chess with him. When Charlie showed up, they kept switching off trying to beat him. Conversation was abundant, and when Fleur and the baby woke up the din in the living room was deafening. They passed the time playing, and joking around, and sneaking gingerbread out of the kitchen until mum announced that dinner was ready.

"Table is ready!" George sat down next to the head of the table, and Harry had sat down next to him. Molly turned and set Ginny's wine glass at the place next to Harry's. Ron waited until her back was turned, and picked it up handing it to her. He moved his eggnog in it's place and sat down next to his mate. Harry looked at him gratefully, and he heard Ginny breathe a sigh of relief. After a moment his mother returned to the table.

"Ron, I set that place for Ginny." He met her stare head on.

"Well I decided to sit here. Ginny can sit somewhere else. There's plenty of room." Everyone in the kitchen got strangely quiet before his sister piped in.

"Mum, it's okay. I wanted to sit next to Charlie anyway." His mother glared at her as if she'd done something wrong, but sat down at her seat anyway. His father coughed and sat next to her, looking as though he'd swallowed a lemon.

Dinner was going quite smoothly through the mounds of mashed potatoes, roast turkey, and ham. Charlie regaled them all on the Welsh Green he had been looking after, George talked at length about the new products he had been coming out with, and Bill and Fleur feeding the baby and going on about what a good big sister Victoire was going to be, with her proud interjections of course. His mum was clearing the plates and bringing out a couple large pecan pies for desert as Harry was telling Bill about his latest visit with Teddy up at Tonks's parents place when everything started going south. Ginny had made mention of how she had just taken up a new lease at her apartment for a year when Molly spoke.

"Well a year is certainly a long time. Don't you think you and Harry will work things out by then?" Harry who had just taken a large swallow of firewhiskey coughed and sputtered. Ron turned to make sure he was okay, but Harry waved him off. Ginny looked like a kelpie caught in a well.

"Mom, I'm not moving back in with Harry." Bill and Fleur were silent, Charlie shifted uncomfortably, and his father looked down at his plate deliberately not looking at his wife.

"Well why not? Don't you think this little disagreement could all be worked out?"

"Mum it isn't a disagreement, I just don't love Harry. What is so hard to grasp about that?" His mother looked like she could start breathing fire at them, Ron wouldn't have been surprised if she had.

"You've been smitten since the day you met him, and you expect me to believe it just ended? How? Why? It doesn't make sense!" Ginny groaned and leaned back in her seat. Ron straightened himself up, ready to intervene when Harry spoke.

"I'm gay, Molly." Every eye in the room turned towards Harry. Ron couldn't breath, he wanted to speak but couldn't find his voice. It was the first time it had been this quiet since Fred had died. The prospect was not a comforting one.

"Oh, you aren't gay dear. You were with Ginny for-"

"He was with me for about one year: total. Gay men have married women and pretended to be straight before now, mum." Molly was speechless, staring at her daughter before rounding on her husband.

"Do you believe this rubbish?" Arthur looked up almost as though just realizing they were all there.

"Molly, maybe you should just let this go." She turned away from him, and back to Harry.

"Harry, dear, I think maybe you're confused or-" Harry shook his head.

"I'm not confused Mrs. Weasley. I'm definitely gay." Ron leaned back in his chair, raising his hand slightly.

"I'm gay too." His mother practically exploded.

"No you're not! Is everybody else gay too?! I suppose Bill is gay?! Has everybody lost their minds?!" Ron was seething with anger. It was just like her to diminish valid concerns like they meant nothing.

"How do you even know you're gay?! You've never had sex with a man." Ron was so mad it took him a minute to realize his ears were actually burning until he could smell singed hair and got a jet of cool water blasted in his ear from Harry. He patted it down with his napkin, but his rage had only grown.

"Mother, I have had sex with plenty of men. Just because I haven't told you about it doesn't mean that it didn't happen. In any case, I shouldn't have to prove that I'm gay. You should just accept it. Just like you accept that everyone else is straight without asking for their proof. And I know Harry's gay because we had sex last night, and again this morning- just to make sure!" Molly looked at him astounded. He was sure nobody had ever out-shouted her before. Everyone was looking terrified at the mere sight of him, and if he had calmed down long enough he would have appreciated his mother's stunned silence. All at once, Molly raised a hand and pressed against his neck. He realized too late that he'd shifted his sweater away from his neck when he'd caught fire, exposing the bite mark Harry had left that morning. He jerked away from her.

"C'mon Harry, let's go home." He rose from his seat, and Harry rose and took his hand.

"Wait!" They looked around, his mother had gotten up from her seat. Ron could see tears shining in her eyes. "I'm sorry." If the family wasn't surprised a moment ago, they were now. After a moment, the only sound was the newborn baby crying. Fleur hurriedly got up from her seat and took her to the next room.

"Don't go, Ronald. I just wanted everyone to be together and happy. I thought- I thought-" She burst into tears, and Ron hesitated, giving a sidelong glance to his boyfriend who nodded encouragingly. He walked back to the table and leaned over holding his mother who was shaking, wracked with sobs. He rubbed her back soothingly before breaking away.

"Mum," She looked up at him, tears still streaming down her face. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, but you seriously need to listen to people more." She nodded dabbing her face with her napkin. Ron nodded to Harry, who resumed his place at the table and Ron sat back down next to him.

"How long has this been going on?" She finally said as she looked up at them. Ron made to answer, but George beat him to the punch.

"They've been dancing around each other for years. I thought it was obvious." Ron stared at him.

"What do you mean?" Harry burst out.

"Oh, come on Harry." Ginny chided, smiling from across the table. "It was completely obvious. You liked me because I look enough like Ron, but I couldn't _feel_ like Ron, so you were never really happy with me. And I had built you up in my head to be a different person that who you actually were. What we had wasn't fair to each other. Besides, I found that picture of Ron in his old Quidditch gear in your nightstand." Harry flushed and looked down. Charlie snickered from across the table, Molly even smiled like she was trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, and I knew about Ron." Everyone looked at Bill who had little Victoire perched on his knee, giggling as he jiggled her up and down. "He started writing to me, and I was giving him tips on how I kept in shape. Otherwise, all he ever talked about was Harry. He occasionally mentioned Hermione, and when I asked about her or any girlfriends he never seemed interested. I had a feeling something was going on." Ron felt the flush creep back to his ears. So he had accidentally told Bill, in a way.

"Bill told me he thought Ron was gay, and I told him I knew he was gay because he was at a Weird Sisters concert snogging some bloke senseless." Ron glared at George. At this Harry looked over at him accusingly.

"What? We weren't together yet!" George laughed.

"If it's a consolation mate, I thought it was you until they stopped and I noticed he didn't have a scar on his forehead. Otherwise, he could have been your twin. Spitting image." Ron flapped his hand at him. The rest of the family was a little less tense now, and Ron turned to his mother.

"I've known I was gay for years. I tried to be straight, and it didn't work out. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was trying to prevent this whole event from happening. Harry and I got together last night." Molly nodded slowly, as though she was trying to let it all sink in.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley. I couldn't ever tell you what had happened because… I've known I was in love with Ron almost two years now. I kept thinking I could change. I wanted to be straight, and I wanted to love Ginny. I just…" His sister nodded. Ron was astounded at how much she had grown since they were little and she would scream to get what she wanted. She had become a very understanding person.

"Harry, I haven't been upset with you. In all honesty, I was projecting some desires onto you I knew you wouldn't be able to fulfill. I expected too much of you. Ron, I think he was made for you. You deserve each other." Harry beamed at his former girlfriend. At the same time mum burst into tears again.

"Mum, don't cry! It's not that bad!" Molly was shaking her head.

"I've been so unfair to you kids. I've thought… ever since Fred… I've been too hard on you all. I used to get upset when I thought you were making a mess of things. I could never see your potential to work it out on your own, and I've done it again." Arthur put an arm around his wife. All the kids were stunned.

"Mum, it's okay. Fred, it wasn't your fault," George rose from his seat to stand behind their mum, rubbing her shoulders. "If Fred were here, he'd understand. We always understood, we just couldn't change who we were. We figured, once you saw and understood what we've accomplished, you'd realize not everything can be controlled. Life is full of the strange and unexpected. Yeah, you expected Ginny and Harry to get married and maybe crank out a few kids. Just because it doesn't happen, doesn't mean they aren't happy. It's probably a bit shocking that Harry and Ron are gay, but we're all here and we're all happy for them. You should be too." George making a speech, much less comforting the mother who had spend their whole life chastising them, was definitely unusual. But Ron surmised that Fred and George, no matter how devious, had gotten the facts of life a lot better than his mother had. Molly smiled and patted her son's hand.

"Now, I'm done being nice. I filled my quota for the whole month. If everybody doesn't get their shit together, stop whining and crying, I'm going to do what Fred would do and start a food fight with this pie. If you all don't want to clean up a mess later then I suggest everybody start laughing and making fun of Harry and Ron." Ginny laughed, and soon Charlie cracked a smile and broke down too. Bill was making a show of restraining himself, but Victoire had started laughing and soon he had too.

"Hey! Why us?" Harry said, with an offending pout that made Ron want to kiss him senseless.

"Because you two are thicker than curdled milk, that's why!" Ginny practically fell on her face from shaking, and Bill was shaking his head grinning.

"Seriously, do you know what trouble I had to go through to get you together? I should charge you, honestly. How much would you say your relationship is worth?" Ron pushed his chair away from the table and lunged at his brother, but Harry jumped up and snagged the back of his shirt. Molly was immediately back in form in an instant.

"Not in the kitchen! I have to clean up in here! Everybody out!" Everyone dutifully fled the kitchen, and mum began picking up plates and depositing them in the kitchen sink. Ron withdrew from Harry and approached his mother. She turned around, smiled, and hugged him. He couldn't recall the last time he had actually embraced his mother like this. It wasn't a hurried one armed hug she often spared him, but like she was enveloping him with all her warmth and giving him her full attention.

"I'm sorry I never told you mum. Part of me thought, that you would be disappointed in me." Molly squeezed him tighter, and let him go, looking up at him fondly.

"Ronald, I am extremely proud of the man you've grown to be." Ron felt his chest swell with affection for his mother.

"And you too Harry Potter. Get over here and let me hug you, don't hang back there looking so shell-shocked." Harry came forward and was given a back breaking hug by his mother, and looked fairly relieved about it. Backing up she took them in and sighed.

"Part of me thinks I should have known sooner. You two have always been inseparable. You do make quite the lovely couple." She placed their hands together and beamed at them.

"Mum!" That only made her smile wider. To his delight Harry inched closer and pulled them together.

"Ron, shut up and listen to your mum." And brought their lips together. Harry's tongue tasted like warm whiskey and he responded eagerly before his mother interjected.

"Now that's very sweet, but if you don't take your shenanigans out of my kitchen I will get that ruler down from the top cabinet." Harry looked confused, but Ron dragged him out of the kitchen posthaste.

"Mum used to spank us with it when we were small." He added to Harry, who staggered behind him. Entering the living room he was greeted with the whole of the family looking at them. Ron had the distinct impression they had all been talking about them.

"What?" He asked. Charlie threw up his hands.

"Was I the ONLY one who had no idea about this?!" Ginny burst into laughter again as George nodded emphatically.

"If you got your head out of dragon dung more often you might get some of what's going on closer to home!" George shouted back, and then him and Charlie started a war with gingerbread being tossed around the room. When Charlie finally ducked behind the couch and surrendered Ron caught George's eye. Nodding towards the staircase, he grabbed Harry's hand and led them upstairs, George trailing behind them.

Once they got to George's old room Ron closed the door and rounded on George.

"What in the bloody hell did you put in our weed?" George grinned maliciously.

"Did you like it?" Ron shook his head.

"You're avoiding the question. There was no dragon claw in there!" George shook his head.

"No, there wasn't, but I'm not avoiding the question. I just want to know your opinion." Ron looked at Harry who was sitting on one of the crates of old Wheezes.

"It was-"

"It was like being caught up in a weird elative high and being inexplicably drawn to Ron. Like, I couldn't take my eyes off of you. I kept getting really warm, and just feeling really happy he was there with me. Like, we belonged together. It was like we were magnets." Ron looked at him confused.

"What are magnets? Wait, never mind, I don't think I need to know. Yeah, like that. I just kept getting weird vibes like a game was being played and I was lost a couple moves back. It was like being intoxicated with Harry's presence. I can't explain it too well." George was silent and nodding, smile growing wider the whole time.

"That's because I mixed in a bit of Amortentia with the pot." Ron stared.

"What? I admit we needed a little shove in the right direction, but love potion?" George was laughing.

"Ron, calm down. I didn't even include a whole dose. Besides you already liked each other anyway. What does it matter? You're together now, and it doesn't matter how the game started. The important part is how you play your pieces. It's the journey right? Not the end or beginning that matters? Isn't that what you've always said?" Ron shook his head.

"This isn't chess you git, this is our lives!" George nodded vigorously.

"Yes, and I was making sure you took full advantage of it!" Ron made to reply, but stopped when he felt Harry grab his wrist.

"He's right Ron. I love you, and it kind of upsets me that we waited so long to figure it out. If it hadn't been for George, who knows how long it would have taken us?" Harry's eyes were pleading with him to understand, and suddenly Ron felt like he did.

"Fred…didn't get a lot of time did he?" George's face fell and he shuffled his feet, hands in his pockets.

"No, he didn't. I don't intend to let the rest of my life go to waste. I knew Fred wouldn't have wanted it that way. That's why everyone was so surprised when I wasn't more upset. In a strange way, I still think he's around. I hear his voice in my head every day, like he's still a part of me. He's partially why I did this." Ron, stunned, sat on a crate next to Harry.

"I've been plotting this for awhile now. I know Fred wouldn't want you to waste anymore time denying yourself happiness when it's just sitting there waiting for you. So, I acted. I'm not going to justify what I did any more than that."

"You don't have to." Ron rose and hugged his brother for the first time in years. George was so taken aback that he stumbled. After a moment he hugged him back.

"Alright you fairy, let go. I told you, my quota has been filled." Ron broke away, but noticed his brother was wearing a small satisfied smile.

The rest of the evening was spent amidst laughter, merriment, and in Charlie's case, a barrage of gingerbread crumbs. Upon flooing home, Ron had the comforting thought that Christmas with his family had never been better.

He barely had time to dust off his clothes before Harry had stumbled into him, arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely. The man of his dreams was warm and still tasted like whiskey. However, before Ron could coerce Harry out of his pants, the other boy broke away.

"So, do you want to play chess?" Ron squinted at him suspiciously.

"Two nights in a row?" Harry nodded. Ron released him, thinking his lover could probably use the knowledge of what chess did to him, but decided to put that piece into play later. Walking over to the mantle he pulled his old battered chess set down again, but stopped at the look on Harry's face.

"What? What's wrong?" Harry's smile had disappeared, and the light that had been in his eyes all night seemed to diminish.

"Did- Did you not like your gift I got you?" Ron paused, then grinned wildly.

Harry's gift. He had saved it for last, but George's gift had completely distracted him.

"I never opened it! I was a bit preoccupied, if you recall." Harry's smile, as well as a healthy blush, resurfaced.

"Do you maybe want to open it, and see if you like it?"

"If it's what I think it is, then I guarantee I will." Harry pushed him towards the stairs, and they raced taking two steps at a time until they reached Ron's room and collided on the bedspread. The redhead picked up the long rectangular package wrapped in crimson paper, a slim ribbon of gold around the top, and looked at Harry. He nodded, looking slightly nervous.

Of course, Ron already knew what was inside, but he never expected it to be quite like this. His old set had once belonged to his uncle Bilius, and was decades old. The wood was chipped and the finish was faded. The hinges creaked, and there was a burn on the edge of the board. It was pretty beat up, and he had never quite gotten around to getting a set of his very own.

Ron couldn't help but let out a moan of longing. If was the most beautiful chess set Ron had ever seen. It was a black ash board with silver hinges. Instead of the board being on the outset of the hinges like his old one however, this had a solid color frame. Opening it up, he couldn't see the signature checked board either, but on red velvet were the pieces. They were gorgeous. There was clear crystal on one side, obviously representing white, and on the other side was smoked glass for the black. But there was no board.

He looked up at Harry, who smiled. Reaching out, he set a slim finger to touch the white crystal knight. Immediately all the pieces sprang to attention, floating upward above the velvet, and spreading out beneath them was the board. It was manifesting before his eyes, an interlocking web of light from the corners of the black case making a floor beneath the attentive troops, and suddenly with a flourish the grid was there in all it's glory. A glass ceiling to the case held the ground, with clear and fogged squares for each piece. Ron was pretty sure he stopped breathing.

"Do you like it?" He looked up at Harry, who was biting his lip apprehensively.

"It's the second most amazing gift I've ever gotten." Disappointment flickered in Harry's eyes.

"Second? What was the first?!" Ron grinned, leaning forward across the board to brush his lips tantalizingly along his lover's.

"Your heart." He expected Harry to push him back playfully, and maybe make a snarky comment about his ego showing. Instead, Harry surprised him yet again. His brilliant green eyes glowed as he smiled slowly.

"Nice move Weasley. Well played." Their lips connected, and the game began anew.


End file.
